


Revise the Script

by startingatthe_end



Category: Degrassi
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:31:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 97,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5347592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startingatthe_end/pseuds/startingatthe_end
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles Hollingsworth, a 27-year-old highly successful businessman, thinks he has his life all figured out. He's become a mature human-being since Degrassi, now running his own company, living on his own and no longer participating in the reckless activities he did as a teenager. But when Tristan Milligan, his ex-boyfriend from high school, enters his life again unexpectedly, Miles' whole word is shaken as he develops feelings and inevitably falls in love with the boy all over again. Tristan transforms Miles' life into a thrilling escapade, changing his responsible work ethic in the process. Miles will have to face the effects of his new relationship on his company and figure out what's most important to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something Unexpected

Coffee. All Miles needed was a quick cup of coffee.

It was quarter to nine on a foggy Monday morning as Miles parallel parked his jet-black BMW convertible on the downtown streets of Toronto. In fifteen minutes, Miles was supposed to be at an important meeting at his company’s office. As CEO of Hollingsworth Construction Co., it was imperative that he be on time.

Miles and his younger brother, Hunter, had started the company shortly after they both graduated from college. Miles had no clue what he wanted to do after high school at Degrassi, but attended Toronto University, majoring in economics. After graduating college, Miles found a job at a smaller construction firm as a project manager, surprising, yet fitting for him. Two years later, he quit that job and Hollingsworth Construction Company (HCC) was born.

With Hunter as his partner, Miles opened his own company that was successful right from the start. Growing and developing at a fast rate, HCC became one of the most well-known construction organizations in all of Toronto. Over the past three years the company had been in business, HCC had managed many large complex multimillion-dollar projects throughout Ontario. 

Miles opened the door to his car, getting out and making his way around the corner to the local Starbucks at a swift pace. He hoped there wouldn’t be a long line as he was already running late, but his luck vanished as he opened the door to the coffee shop and realized there was a line of five or so people in front of him.

Miles tapped his foot impatiently as he waited in line. Hunter was going to kill him if the meeting was delayed.

“What would you like, sir?” the barista asked him as he finally made it to the front of the line.

“One grande dark roast coffee, please.” Miles took his wallet out of his back pocket, pulling out a five-dollar bill. He paid for his coffee, tipping the barista, before making his way to the door.

The door swung open just as Miles stepped forward to exit the Starbucks and he collided with a dark haired boy. He managed to hold onto his coffee without spilling as he stumbled back.

“I’m so sorry,” Miles placed his free hand on the persons arm to steady himself. He met the boy’s gaze; the wide blue eyes staring back displayed recognition.

Miles dropped his hand to his side as his mouth opened. “Tris,” he cleared his throat, “Tristan?”

“Well if it isn’t the one and only Miles Hollingsworth,” Tristan laughed, a laughter Miles hadn’t realized how much he missed. Miles’ face flushed.

“Wow. Its—uh—it’s been a while.” Miles was shocked to see Tristan Milligan from his high school standing in front of him. He adjusted the collar of his suit jacket, pulling lightly on his tie, as all of a sudden it seemed too tight around his neck.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen you since graduation,” Tristan recalled, his smile unwavering.

When Miles started at Degrassi his sophomore year of high school, Tristan and him became good friends. They did everything together; played basketball, watched movies, threw pool parties. Then one day they kissed and suddenly became more than friends.

Tristan was gay and out long before Miles started at Degrassi. During the end of their sophomore year, Miles began questioning his sexuality when he developed feelings for Tristan, the first boy he'd ever had feelings for. They dated briefly, but Miles ended their relationship because of his denial- or actually his father's denial- that he was actually into a boy, hurting Tristan in the process. Tristan and Miles remained civil during the remainder of high school, but parted ways after graduation. Miles’ homophobic father had made sure to plant in Miles’ mind that he couldn’t like both boys and girls and it wasn’t until Miles got to college that he began accepting his own sexuality.

“How are you?” Miles asked, raking his eyes over Tristan. The boy was slightly taller and more built than Miles remembered from high school. Miles traced with his eyes the muscles in Tristan’s arms and abdomen, clearly visible through his tight turquoise V-neck. Tristan was dressed in gym-shorts and the slight glimmer to his forehead told Miles he must have just finished his morning workout.

“I’m good. I just moved back to Toronto about two months ago and got a job at a theatre uptown. But, I hear you’re like some big shot around here, owning some huge company. I would have never expected you to become a successful businessman.” The teasing in Tristan’s tone was familiar to Miles and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as Tristan playfully nudged his arm.

“And who’d you hear that from?” Miles questioned with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Believe it or not, I’m still in touch with Zoë.”

Miles frowned at the comment causing Tristan to let out another laugh. Zoë had also attended their high school, being one of Tristan’s best friends and Miles’ temporary girlfriend when he first got to Degrassi. Zoë had tried to get in contact with Miles when HCC became quite popular, but Miles ignored the attempt, thinking she was probably just trying to up her reputation and gain some of his wealth. It wasn’t surprising to him that Zoë had been the one to gossip to Tristan about him.

Just then, Miles’ phone began to ring, distracting him from his conversation with Tristan. He pulled it out and hit the decline button before shoving it back in his pocket, knowing it was no-doubt Hunter calling to see where the fuck he was.

Miles let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I have a meeting I have to get to.”

“You better get going then. Meetings can’t start without the boss.” Tristan flashed his teeth and Miles immediately mirrored his smile. It was so easy for Miles to talk to Tristan, falling into a recognizable rhythm as if they hadn’t spent the last nine years apart.

All Miles could think of was that this couldn’t be the last time he saw this boy again. “It was good seeing you, Tristan. We should—uh—get together some time and catch up.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Tristan replied. “Here, let me give you my number.”

Miles pulled out his phone, unlocking the screen and opening a new contact before handing it over to Tristan. Tristan typed in his number and saved the contact then gave Miles his phone back.

“I’ll see you soon then.” Miles opened the coffee shop door to leave.

“Have a good day,” Tristan uttered. Miles set to head out the door before Tristan called out to him. “Hey, Miles!” Miles turned his head in response. “You look good,” Tristan grinned one last time. 

Miles huffed a laugh as his face flushed red and he exited the Starbucks. He shook his head to try and clear his mind of Tristan as he rushed to his car to proceed straight to Hollingsworth Construction Co., knowing very well that he was going to be in some deep shit with Hunter.

  


“You’re late,” Hunter muttered under his breath, the fury clear as day across his face.

“I’m here now. Can we just get this over with?” Miles and Hunter walked at a fast pace down the hallway of the HCC office. They were headed towards the conference room, where their important future client awaited. The company had been planning this meeting for weeks, knowing that this would be a huge milestone for Hollingsworth Construction if they landed this job.

“They’ve been here for fifteen minutes. Where the fuck were you?” Hunter kept his stern voice at a low volume, not wanting any of the employees to overhear, as they neared the conference room. The brothers slowed to a stop as they reached the closed door and turned to face each other.

“I’ll tell you later. Deep breath, Hunter. We got this.” Miles faked a half smile as he attempted to show reassurance.

Hunter reached out to smooth the lapels of Miles’ suit before clapping his hand on his older sibling’s shoulder. “Let’s do this.”

The business partners entered the conference room to be greeted by three middle-aged men. They were a part of the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS) and were looking to build a major undercover office for their organization in Toronto. HCC had bid the job and were called to a meeting with CSIS representatives to discuss their proposal for the main building development.

Miles and Hunter got to work, selling their pitch to the client. The boys made a great team, sharing their ideas with the men and showing the blueprints of the building. HCC was a perfect fit for the job and the co-owners proved that to CSIS by the end of the meeting.

“Well, I have to say, boys, I’m impressed,” the head delegate of CSIS stated as he rose from his seat at the conference table. “Your company stands out from all the other job bids. HCC is definitely suitable for this project. We’ll contact you in a week or two to finalize our decision.”

“Thank you.” Miles and Hunter extended their hands to shake each of the representatives before showing them to the door.

After CSIS exited, Hunter turned to Miles eyeing the huge grin spread across his face. Hunter narrowed his eyes biting back a smile.

“C’mon, you can’t still be mad at me. That went great! We killed it,” Miles enthused. 

“You better have a damn good explanation as to why you were late. You knew how important this meeting was, Miles.” Hunter cracked a smile letting Miles know that he wasn’t going to hold this against him.

“I do have a good explanation.”

“I bet. You came in here all red-faced and flustered. What happened? You didn’t hear from Dad, did you?”

Miles’ face immediately dropped at the mention of his father. They’d only spoken briefly over the years and Miles tried to avoid interacting with him as much as possible. His father was an immense homophobic prick that put Miles through a lot of pain growing up. There was no one Miles hated more than his Dad.

“No. I haven’t fucking talked to Dad. This has nothing to do with him.” Miles tried to mask the look of annoyance covering his face. He didn’t want to take his hatred for his father out on Hunter.

“Then what’s up?” Hunter sank down in one of the conference chairs, swiveling it around to face Miles in a slouched position. He was clearly unbothered by Miles’ reaction since there was still a smirk plastered across his face.

Miles sighed. “Do you remember Tristan Milligan from Degrassi?”

Hunter chuckled, which was not the response Miles was expecting. “How could I forget? Your first lover boy.”

“Fuck off.” He knew Hunter was just messing with him and had no problem that Miles was bi, but he couldn’t help getting irritated at the sarcastic comment. Miles avoided eye contact, staring at the far wall of the conference room, as he thought about storming out of the room without giving Hunter any further explanation.

“Relax, I’m just kidding. Now, spill.” Hunter raised his eyebrows in expectation.

Miles’ voice came out in a rush. “I ran into him when I was getting coffee. Like, literally ran into him. We talked and he gave me his number. I think I’m going to see him again.” Miles was hopeful. He definitely wanted to see Tristan again.

There was a short pause after Miles finished before Hunter finally spoke up. “Well, it’s about time. You need to get laid, bro.” Miles rolled his eyes. Tristan wasn’t about getting laid. There was something about seeing him again, after all these years, that made Miles’ stomach tighten and his nerves shake. He wanted to know everything about that boy and what he’s been up to the past nine years. Miles knew Tristan was practically a stranger despite the familiarity he felt during their conversation. For some reason Miles could not justify, he wanted Tristan back in his life again.

“So, are you going to call him?” Hunter questioned. Miles gave a hesitant nod, not feeling totally confident in his response. “You should talk to Frankenstein.”

“Now, why would I do that?” Miles groaned at the thought of talking about this with his judgmental younger sister. He loved Frankie, but she could be very critical about Miles’ choices.

“Because she gives good advice, believe it or not. Call her, Miles.” Hunter rose from the chair, heading towards the door to get back to work.

“Yeah, yeah.” Miles followed his brother out of the conference room, knowing what he was saying regarding Frankie was accurate. Miles parted ways with Hunter to proceed to his own office room to begin his work for the day. He sat down at his desk, exhaling noisily, and turned on his computer to begin responding to the million emails in his inbox. Miles’ mind kept wandering back to his interaction with Tristan and he was barely able to get any work done that day with such a distraction.

  


Miles dropped down onto the chocolate leather couch of his high-rise one-bedroom apartment with his cup of instant ramen noodles in one hand and a beer in the other. He propped his legs on the coffee table, setting his beer down and picking up the television remote. It had been a long and dragging day to say the least after the morning’s events. Miles was exhausted and planned to spend the remainder of the night watching the Toronto Maple Leafs defeat the New York Rangers in hockey. He turned on the game, settling back and taking a bite of his ramen.

He knew he had a phone call to make, but was trying to put it off for as long as possible, taking his sweet time eating his make-shift dinner. At the end of the first hockey period, Miles dug his phone out of his front pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he found the person he was looking for. He reluctantly hit the call button and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” the girl on the other line picked up.

“Hey, Franks.”

“Miles! How’d it go today? Please tell me you and Hunter nailed the job,” Miles’ little sister exclaimed.

“The meeting went well. They said they’d let us know in a couple weeks but it looks good for us.” 

Frankie squealed in response, evidently happy for her two brothers.

Miles cleared his throat. “But that’s not why I called. I ran into Tristan Milligan from high school today.” He fidgeted with the drawstring of his sweatpants, his nerves creeping up.

“What? Where?” Frankie sounded eager for her brother to fill her in.

“At the coffee shop. We talked for a little bit. He’s living in Toronto now and he gave me his number so we can catch up some time.”

“Oh my god. Are you going to call him?”

“I—I think so. I don’t know, Frankie. There was something about seeing him again and I don’t know how to explain it. I want to keep seeing him. I need your advice,” Miles admitted. Miles knew that confessing to Frankie that he needed her help would go right to her head. He could practically see her knowing smirk through the phone.

“Is he hot?” Frankie asked after a moments pause.

Miles smiled, knocking his head back against the couch to stare at the ceiling. “Yes. God, yes. He’s gorgeous, so much better than what I remember.”

Frankie giggled into the phone. “You should definitely call him.”

“You think so?” Miles still wasn’t totally confident in himself.

“Yes, Miles. Go out with him and catch up as old friends. It will be good for you to hang out with someone other than one of your co-workers. But, you have to keep me updated with all the details,” Frankie encouraged.

Miles chuckled. It was a relief that Frankie wanted him to call Tristan. “Will do,” he replied.

“And Miles, wait a couple days to call. You don’t want to sound too-eager.”

Miles knew he was impatient and it was going to be difficult for him to wait to make the call. “Alright,” he agreed. “The hockey game’s back on. I’ll talk to you later, Frankenstein.”

“Bye, good luck.” The phone went dead as Frankie hung up the line, not interested in hockey like her brothers were. Miles put his phone back in his pocket, a smile plastered across his face. He was both excited and nervous to call Tristan.

  


Miles waited until Wednesday. He barely made it that long, constantly considering calling him sooner. Miles physically couldn’t wait any longer and concluded that two days was long enough. It was right after lunch, when Miles got back to his office, that he found Tristan’s contact and made the call.

Tristan picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”

Miles leaned back in his rolling office chair, picking up his pen to doodle on the post-it note pad in front of him. “Hey, Tristan. It’s Miles— Hollingsworth.” Miles feigned his best casual voice.

“Hey, Miles. How are you?” Tristan spoke in a tone Miles found to be alluring.

Miles swallowed loudly. “I’m good. I was—uh—wondering what you were doing Friday night? Maybe we can meet up.”

“Hm, I have work till seven. Do you want to grab dinner around eight?”

“Sure, that sounds good. Want to meet at Little Miss Steaks?” Miles blurted out the first restaurant that came to his head. At least Little Miss Steaks was casual enough so it wouldn’t seem like a date, although Miles was secretly wishing it were.

“Yes. I’ll see you then.”

“Bye Tris. Have a good afternoon.” Miles hung up the phone. He glanced down at the note pad he had been idly drawing on. ‘Tris’ was sketched across the pad in blue ink. Miles scowled before tearing the post-it off the pad and crumpling it up to toss in the garbage can. He needed to get his shit together before he embarrassed himself in front of Tristan on Friday.


	2. The Skyline

Friday couldn’t have come fast enough. Miles had trouble keeping himself occupied during the time between getting off the phone with Tristan on Wednesday and leaving work Friday evening. It had been a long two days and thankfully he spent most of it working.

Miles jumped in the shower when he got back to his apartment Friday evening, before dressing in a light grey button-down paired with black slacks. He combed his short brunette hair over; staring in the mirror an extra minute to make sure it was placed just right. After brushing his teeth and applying cologne, Miles checked the time on his silver Bvlgari watch. It read quarter to eight, so Miles headed out, down the elevator of his apartment and outside to his car.

When Miles arrived at Little Miss Steaks, he couldn’t miss the dark haired male walking into the restaurant as he parked his car. Tristan had beaten him there. Just spotting Tristan had sent his stomach fluttering uncontrollably.

Miles got out of his car and strolled through the restaurant door, catching Tristan standing off to the side, facing away from him. He was dressed in a black shirt paired with a jacket and dark skinny jeans that Miles noticed fit nicely around his ass. He tried to ignore the way his heartbeat sped up at seeing Tristan standing before him.

Miles approached Tristan, tapping his shoulder with his index finger before sneaking around the opposite side of him. Tristan turned abruptly, rotating in a full circle until landing his eyes on Miles, his face breaking into a wide grin.

“You know, it’s not nice to sneak up on people,” Tristan teasingly chastised.

“I guess I’m not a nice person,” Miles joked. “You hungry?” he gestured with his hand to the hostess standing behind the podium.

“Starving.” Tristan stepped forward to request a table for two. 

They followed the hostess to a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It was rather crowded, considering it was a Friday night and Little Miss Steaks was a pretty popular place to eat. Miles and Tristan sat across from each other and the hostess handed them their menus before walking away.

“So, Tristan, tell me what you’ve been up to since high school.” Miles put his menu down meeting Tristan’s eyes and giving the boy his full attention.

That was the only invitation Tristan needed to talk. “Well, you know I went to Smithdale University, majoring in Drama. I absolutely loved it there.” Miles nodded, encouraging him to keep going. “I learned so much from the acting classes and met so many cool people. Smithdale was life changing.”

Their waitress approached them, interrupting Tristan to take their drink orders.

“And after Smithdale?” Miles asked once the waitress had walked away. He wanted to keep listening to Tristan talk; his voice becoming something Miles enjoyed hearing.

“After Smithdale, I landed a job in Ottawa at the National Arts Centre. One of my acting coaches from the university recommended me for the position. I worked there for the last five years, acting in multiple plays and directing some. ” Tristan chuckled lightly to himself. “I can’t even call it a job. Acting at that theater never felt like work to me. I enjoyed showing up there everyday to perform and I was paid for something I love doing.”

Miles was fascinated by Tristan’s passion when he described his work. “So why’d you move back to Toronto?” He couldn’t understand why Tristan would give up his dream job.

Tristan sighed lightly, his face no longer expressing the light it had shown before. “I was living with a boyfriend for my final six months in Ottawa. Things turned ugly and let’s just say I had to get out of there. I crashed at my brother’s house for about a month before I found a job as an acting teacher at the Greenwin Theatre uptown. I now live in a shitty apartment two blocks from the theatre.” He gave Miles a closed-mouth smile.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out with your boyfriend in Ottawa.” Miles wanted to know details, but he knew it wouldn’t be polite to ask.

Tristan cracked a real smile this time. “Trust me, it was a relief to get away from my asshole of an ex. I needed a change.”

Miles nodded, returning the smile, as the waitress returned with their drinks. She put their bottles of beer down on the table before taking their meal orders.

Miles returned his attention back to Tristan after the waitress left. “How are your mom and dad? They still at the same house near Degrassi?” he questioned.

“Mom is. My Dad’s got a house a couple blocks over. They ended up getting divorced after I left for college, but it was for the better. They get along a lot more now that they’re not living under the same roof.”

“That’s good then. What about your brother?” Miles sat up straighter, realizing he had started to lean absentmindedly closer to Tristan. 

“He’s married with a kid, living in Mississauga. I visit him a lot and love spending time with my nephew.” Tristan and Miles both shared a smile. “Enough about me, it’s your turn.”

Miles huffed a laugh. “I’m not nearly as interesting as you are.”

Tristan rolled his eyes. “Now that, I know is complete bullshit. You went to Toronto University? I never heard you around the neighborhood in the summer or during breaks.”

“Well my dad was still around, therefore I wasn’t. I got my own apartment at university so I never had to come home. It was ideal, given my family circumstances.” Miles recalled the arguments he used to get into with his father when he still lived at home and how his father never really gave a shit about him. His eyes strayed from Tristan’s, the first time they have since they sat down. He always felt uncomfortable talking about his father and Tristan seemed to sense that.

Tristan gave a nod of understanding. “So what about after college?”

“I found a job at a small construction company as a project manager. It wasn’t exactly what I saw myself doing, but the pay was decent. I learned a lot of things about running a business from the company. 

“Then, when Hunter graduated from college, he came to me with the idea of Hollingsworth Construction Company. We planned it all out, I resigned from my former job and we opened our own construction firm. I never imagined it would be as extensive and successful of a company as it is today.” Miles shrugged and Tristan smiled genuinely. 

“So you’re happy?”

Miles took a sip of his beer. “I’m happy,” he confirmed. “Of course running that company can be stressful as hell, but it’s worth it. And Hunter keeps me in line.” Tristan laughed at the last comment.

Their conversation was interjected by the waitress, who placed their steaks in front of them. The boys dug in, chatting and continuing to catch up through bites of food.  
As they finished their meal, the dishes were cleared from the table and the check was presented to them.

“My treat.” Miles beat Tristan’s hand to the bill, flashing a smile. He slipped his gold company credit card into the black tab.

“You don’t have to do that. We can split it, Miles.” Tristan kept his hand outstretched towards him.

“No way. I’m the one who asked you out.”

Tristan pulled his hand back to rest lightly on his chin as he propped his elbow on the table and leaned forward slightly. “Is this a date?” His voice was low, almost husky.

Tristan’s expression was only teasing, but Miles couldn’t help the heat that rushed to his head, his face no doubt blushing. “No,” Miles scoffed. “We’re just two friends, catching up.” Tristan laughed.

The waitress reappeared, saving Miles from embarrassing himself any further. He handed her the bill, which she shortly came back with. Miles retrieved his card and signed the check.

“Did you drive here?” Miles asked, remembering seeing Tristan walking through the restaurant door instead of in the parking lot.

Tristan shook his head. “I had to take the subway. My shitty car broke down on 401 yesterday. It’s at the mechanic.”

Miles nodded. He didn’t want his night with Tristan to be over. “I’ll give you a ride. Come on.” 

They both rose from the booth, Miles leading as they made their way to exit the restaurant. He held the door open for Tristan, sharing a smile with the other boy as he passed through the door. 

It was rather warm for an early autumn night in Toronto as they walked side by side to Miles’ Beemer. Miles fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car. They both got in and Miles turned the key in the ignition to start it as Tristan glanced around before landing his gaze on Miles.

“This reminds me of your first car, the Mustang.”

Miles smiled, recalling the days after he got his license when Tristan and him were still dating. They drove around endlessly together, skipping class to get food and go to the mall. Miles remembered the countless of times their drives ended with them making out in the backseat of his new convertible.

“I loved that car,” Tristan mused. Miles wondered if Tristan was also thinking about their risqué kissing that took place in the confines of that Mustang in high school.

Miles chuckled. “We had some pretty good times in that car, didn’t we?”

“We sure did.”

Miles put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking space, not commenting further on the subject. He bit his lip, trying to mask the smirk that was spreading across his face.

“It’s pretty early,” Miles remarked glancing at the clock on the dashboard that read 9:37. “Do you want to hang out some more, there’s something I want to show you.”

“Sure.” Tristan sounded enthusiastic which made Miles’ stomach flip flop. Miles drove through Toronto, keeping both hands on the wheel, making his way towards his apartment building.

He parked his car in front of the high-rise fancy building, shutting off the engine and removing the key. Tristan raised his eyebrows, eyeing the building before them, clearly confused as to what they were doing here.

“I live here,” Miles answered the unasked question in Tristan’s expression.

“Wha—you live here?” Tristan sounded astonished, his eyes widening as he took in the mass apartment building in front of him. He must have known it costed a fortune to live in a place like this.

Miles laughed lightly, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t sound so surprised,” he teased. “But, this isn’t what I wanted to show you, come on.”

They both got out of the car and Tristan followed Miles through the door to the building. A built man in an impressive suit stood behind the front desk in the apartment building’s lobby and greeted them. “Good evening, Mr. Hollingsworth,” he nodded.

“Hey, Frank,” Miles responded, continuing on to the elevators against the far wall. The elevator opened and Miles and Tristan got on, Miles pressing the last button, indicating floor 49.

“You live on the 49th floor?”

“No, I live on the 43rd floor,” Miles responded, leaving Tristan even more perplexed.

As the elevator doors opened, Tristan trailed Miles wordlessly through the hallway. They rounded a corner before Miles came to an abrupt stop and opened a heavy door labeled Stairs. They walked up three flights and out another door.

The warm breeze hit them, ruffling Miles’ hair as they stepped out onto the rooftop of the building. Tristan paused, looking around and taking it all in. In the center of the roof was a large in-ground pool surrounded by lounge chairs. On the far side were multiple cushioned couches, chairs, and tables tucked into the corners of the rooftop. A four-foot glass barrier surrounded the edge of the roof that overlooked all of Toronto, displaying a magnificent view of the city lit up in the nighttime, including the CN Tower and First Canadian Place in the distance. 

Miles turned around to see Tristan motionless, his plush lips parted slightly as he stared into the skyline. His dark curls were windswept against his pale skin that glowed against the moonlight. Miles realized that Tristan was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, far more stunning than the view before him.

“It’s amazing,” Tristan finally broke the silence, shifting his eyes to Miles watching him. Miles hesitantly took a step towards Tristan, outstretching his hand.

Tristan dropped his gaze to Miles’ hand for a moment before placing his hand in his. His hand was cool compared to Miles’ and Miles wrapped his fingers securely around his before turning back around and walking across the rooftop.

Their fingers didn’t interlock, however, holding hands with Tristan still sent Miles’ heart beating a mile a minute. As they reached one of the outdoor couches in the corner of the roof, they let go of each other’s hands and sat down.

“I can’t believe you live here, Miles. This is incredible.”

“Yeah, it definitely has its perks.”

“You live alone?”

Miles nodded, puzzled by the query. “The apartment only has one bedroom.”

Tristan was silent for a minute before asking the real question he wanted answered. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

The inquiry caught Miles off guard and he laughed out loud. “Nope. I don't have a boyfriend either,” he explained.

Tristan didn’t look that surprised. He nudged Miles’ arm playfully. “So you are interested in boys? Since when?”

“Since college when I was finally able to accept myself and was away from my father.” His tone turned serious towards the end. “But, I guess I’ve always been into guys.. and girls; I just couldn’t admit it to myself in high school.”

Tristan only smiled. Miles wondered how long Tristan had been waiting to hear those words, as the reason their relationship ended on a bad note had a decent part to do with Miles’ self-denial. “How long have you been single?”

“My last serious relationship ended over a year ago.” Miles’ voice lightened. 

“What happened?”

Miles sighed quietly. “He thought I cared more about the company than I did about him.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows. “Was he right?”

“Probably,” Miles chuckled and Tristan laughed along with him.

Tristan’s expression turned blank as he ran his hand through his dark curls nervously. “My ex was abusive. That’s why I had to leave Ottawa.”

Miles stared at Tristan’s face, the other boy no longer looking at him. He looked solemn which made Miles frustrated for some reason he couldn’t explain. Who could ever physically hurt the remarkable boy in front of him? “What happened?”

“He became overly obsessive, angry whenever I talked to other guys or hung out with my friends. At first it was manageable, but after he hit me, it was like a downward spiral from there. He kept promising he’d never hurt me again and I was so stupid for ever believing him.” He looked out at the view of Toronto, his eyes somewhat glassy and he shook his head. “The bruises began to add up and when I went to visit my brother, Owen put two and two together. We went back to Ottawa, I told James to go fuck himself and packed all my shit to move in with my brother. And that was the end of it.”

Miles put his hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “I am so sorry, Tris.”

Tristan’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s good to get a fresh start. I don’t need that asshole in my life.”

“Are you happy?” Miles asked the question Tristan had worded to him earlier.

“I am now.” Tristan’s eyes were openly honest and they both shared a genuine smile.

They talked with each other for another hour or so, telling stories and sharing experiences about the years they’ve spent away from one another. Miles found Tristan to be the easiest person to talk to and felt that he could tell him anything. He was having more fun with Tristan than he had with anyone else in a long time. Miles tried to remember the last time someone had made him this happy or he had laughed so hard, but his mind came up blank.

Eventually as it became late, Miles and Tristan left the rooftop, heading down the stairs and elevator, outside to Miles’ car. Miles drove Tristan home, following his instructions to his apartment building uptown. He pulled up in front of a five-story brick building and put the car in park.

Tristan turned in the leather seat of the BMW to face Miles. “Thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun.”

Miles smiled. “We should do this again some time.”

“Absolutely.” Tristan opened the car door and stepped out. He leaned down to meet Miles’ gaze one last time. “Goodnight Miles. Drive home safely.”

Miles took in Tristan’s face, not wanting to have to say goodbye. “Goodnight, Tris.”

Tristan shut the car door and turned to head into his apartment building. He slowed as he got to the front door, turning around to wave at Miles, before disappearing inside.

Miles drove away, replaying the night’s events over and over in his head, trying to draw some sort of conclusion on how he felt about Tristan. All he could deduce was that this boy was special to him and he wanted to keep seeing him.


	3. Dancing

It had been nearly two weeks since Miles had seen Tristan, the night they went to Little Miss Steaks, and Miles still couldn’t get Tristan out of his mind. He hadn’t heard from him, not wanting to be the first one to reach out again. Maybe Tristan hadn’t had as good of a time as Miles thought he did.

It was a boring Wednesday morning in the office as Miles sat at his desk barely getting any work done. The company still hadn’t heard from CSIS, which Miles thought probably meant bad news, that they weren’t getting the job. Miles typed aimlessly on the keyboard of his computer, trying to send out an email to the HCC project managers regarding job updates.

Out of nowhere, his office door swung open, causing Miles to immediately sit up straighter. He relaxed when he realized it was just Hunter and returned to his preferred slouching position. He should know better; no other employee would think to barge in on the boss without knocking.

“What are you doing tonight?” Hunter asked, pressing both of his hands down on Miles’ mahogany desk and leaning forward.

“Uh, probably watching the hockey game at home, like I do most nights.” Miles shifted his eyes from Hunter back to his computer screen, not very interested in their current conversation.

“Wrong answer. We’re celebrating.”

Miles’ eyes shot back to Hunter’s. “CSIS called?”

“We got the job!” Hunter rocked back on the balls of his feet, nearly jumping out of his shoes.

Miles broke into a grin, standing up and making his way around the desk to give his brother a one armed hug. “I never doubted us.”

“Bullshit,” Hunter laughed. “You’ve been shitting yourself all week, just like I have.” Hunter shoved his brother, causing them to both break into laughter. Miles shrugged, not denying it any further.

“Drinks tonight,” Hunter continued. “I’m inviting the HCC executives. You think I should ask the new temp? She’s pretty hot.”

Miles snickered. “If you want chlamydia.” In the two weeks the temporary secretary had been at HCC, Miles had found out she already boned one of the superintendents and was known to sleep around. “And we both agreed not to have relationships with any of our employees,” Miles reminded him.

“She’ll be gone in like three weeks when Amanda gets back. But, I guess you’re right, I can do better.”

Miles snorted. “I didn’t say that,” he mumbled under his breath.

Hunter deliberately ignored him, bringing the conversation back to their celebration tonight. “I’ll tell the execs and call Frankenstein. Work late, tonight. We’ll leave at seven.”

“Alrighty, boss.” Miles used a sarcastic tone, heading back around to sit at his desk.

“I’m not your boss, just your business partner.” Hunter hesitated by the office door, debating whether or not to leave. Miles could tell Hunter didn’t mean to boss him around.

“I know, lil bro. I’m just messing with you,” Miles reassured Hunter he wasn’t angry with him. “Get ready for CSIS to kick our ass. This isn’t going to be an easy project to build.”

Hunter laughed. “The Hollingsworth brothers can handle anything.” He didn’t wait for Miles to respond as he walked out of his office, closing the door behind him.

  


Miles followed Hunter’s instructions and hung around the office till seven, finishing up some proposals that had to be in early next week and grabbing a sandwich in the break room for dinner.

As seven rolled around, Miles, Hunter, and six of the HCC executives all left the office to pile in cars and head over to the local club. The executives were the highest up in HCC, besides Miles and Hunter of course, and consisted of three men and three women. They were all in charge of different employees for each section of the company and made sure everything was in order for the bosses. The Hollingsworth brothers were good friends with the execs and went out to grab drinks with them quite often. 

Miles’ mood had lightened significantly after hearing that they had landed the job with CSIS. As they entered the club, the group headed straight to the bar to order drinks. The club was crowded, music blaring and people talking. Miles sat at the bar between Hunter and one of the execs, drinking and talking animatedly with his employees. Frankie had joined them to celebrate and ordered a round of shots for the group.

As the night wore on, Frankie and some of his coworkers had made their way to the dance floor. Miles remained in his seat, sipping his fourth beer for the night, not really following the conversation Hunter was having with the two remaining execs. 

A familiar laugh rang out from down the bar, and Miles turned his head, recognizing the laughter immediately. He saw the dark haired boy leaning forward in his seat, intently chatting with the bartender, a toothy grin across his face. Miles’ heart immediately started to thrum in his chest. He couldn’t believe Tristan was at the same club as him. 

If Miles had to guess, it looked like Tristan was flirting with the bartender as he poured a row of shots, causing Miles’ grip on his beer bottle to tighten. He watched curiously, as Tristan and the people surrounding him, including the bartender, all picked up a shot and downed it. Miles swallowed loudly as he watched Tristan’s adam’s apple bob as the liquor went down his throat.

Miles sighed, suddenly feeling confident and making the decision to go talk to him. He brought the bottle in his hand to his lips, drinking the remainder of his beer, before setting it roughly onto the bar top. He slid out of his stool and walked to the other side of the bar, feeling Hunter’s gaze on his back as he left. 

To Miles’ relief, the bartender had moved on to other customers, and it was just Tristan talking to what seemed to be his friends. Miles approached him quietly, not knowing what he was going to say and thinking how this might be a terrible fucking idea. Maybe there was a reason Tristan hadn’t contacted him since they last saw each other. Maybe he wasn’t interested in Miles the way Miles was interested in him.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Miles brought his lips close to Tristan’s ear as he spoke, making sure he could hear him over the loud music.

Tristan turned in his seat, his face beaming as he laid his eyes on the source of the voice. “Miles! What are you doing here?” Tristan threw an arm around Miles’ shoulders, dragging him into a hug.

Tristan was clearly excited to see him. Miles laughed and placed an arm around the other boy to rub at his back before pulling away, realizing Tristan was probably drunk, but then again so was he.

“I’m here with my brother and sister and people from the company.” Miles gestured with his head down the bar to where his brother and the execs were sitting. “We’re celebrating.”

“What are you celebrating?”

“Uh, we just got offered a big job with CSIS.”

“That’s great!” Tristan enthused. “Congratulations. Let me buy you a drink.” Tristan grabbed Miles’s shirt around his bicep, tugging him closer to the bar.

“Thanks.” Miles eyed Tristan’s hand on him, his face breaking out into a smile.

“These are my friends from the theatre,” Tristan continued, unclenching his fingers from Miles’ shirt but keeping his hand pressed against his arm. “We just finished our dress rehearsal. Our opening show is tomorrow night.”

Miles shared smiles with Tristan’s friends. “We were just going to go dance,” the girl sitting next to Tristan spoke, rising from her barstool. “You coming?” she asked Tristan.

“Maybe later,” Tristan replied, not breaking his eye contact with Miles as his friends left. “You wanna sit?”

Miles nodded, sliding into the seat next to him. Tristan flagged down the bartender, ordering them drinks and two shots.

Tristan picked up a shot and slid the other in front of Miles. “Cheers to your new job. You deserve it.” Tristan smiled, lightly clinking his glass with the shot in Miles’ hand. 

“And congrats on your play,” Miles added, their eyes locking for a moment before they downed their shots.

The drinks kept coming after that. Miles and Tristan talked and laughed and drank with each other, getting completely wasted as time passed. 

“You wanna dance?” Tristan finally asked, leaning obnoxiously closer to the other boy, his hand on Miles’ thigh for support.

Miles kept his eyes on Tristan’s face. “Yeah, I wanna fucking dance.”

Tristan’s smile stretched wider, before he hopped off the stool and grabbed Miles’ hand, dragging him onto the dance floor.

They faced each other, Tristan keeping hold of Miles’ hand as he swayed to the music. “I’m not really a good dancer,” Miles admitted, his eyes running down Tristan’s body as the boy moved his hips. 

Tristan scrunched his eyebrows, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Bullshit. You used to dance all the time.”

Miles laughed, shaking his head. “I haven’t danced since high school.”

Tristan took Miles’ other hand in his, bringing their bodies closer together, continuing to slightly dance to the music. Miles tensed as Tristan ran his hands up his arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind on his skin, before laying his hands at the back of Miles’ neck. Miles met Tristan’s eyes, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, and tried to relax.

“Dance with me,” Tristan spoke in a velvety tone that Miles found alluring. Miles wasn’t about to deny him, so he started shifting his weight from side to side, placing his hands hesitantly on Tristan’s hips.

Miles quickly got the hang of it and started dancing a lot more assuredly. He moved his body with Tristan’s, both of the boys smiling and laughing over the pounding music.

After dancing for a while, Miles noticed Tristan’s movements getting sloppy, as well as his own, as the alcohol continued to enter their bloodstream. Miles knew he was far past drunk as his vision was blurry around the edges, and it was getting late. He hadn’t seen Hunter or anyone from the company in a while and wondered where Tristan’s friends were.

“We should get you home,” Miles spoke, meeting Tristan’s gaze. Tristan only nodded, before Miles took his hand, intertwining their fingers, and lead the way to exit the club, weaving around the crowd of people.

Outside the club, Miles managed to hail a taxi, climbing into the backseat behind Tristan. He shot a quick text to Hunter saying he left the bar and would see him tomorrow as Tristan rattled off his apartment’s address to the taxi driver.

“I had fun tonight,” Tristan bumped his shoulder against Miles’, a big grin plastered across his face.

“So did I,” Miles mirrored his smile. “Wasn’t sure you wanted to see me again after the last time we went out.”

Tristan scowled, seeming confused as he stared into Miles’ eyes. “Why wouldn’t I want to see you?” He reached out to brush his cool fingers against Miles’ cheek, bringing his face a little closer. “I like you, Miles.” Tristan’s gaze dropped to Miles’ lips.

Miles froze, dazed by Tristan’s confession, his heart in his throat. He lowered his eyes to Tristan’s plush pink lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss them. But, he knew they were both drunk and it was the wrong time. Miles wanted their first kiss since meeting again to be something Tristan would remember and be sure about.

So, he pulled Tristan into a hug, feeling the other boy sigh contentedly against his shoulder, breathing him in. “I like you, too.”

As the cab driver pulled up to Tristan’s apartment, Miles got out with him, not sure if a drunk Tristan could make it upstairs by himself, watching the boy wobble towards the door, his balance off-centered. Miles instructed the driver to wait outside and that he would only be a few minutes.

He followed Tristan through the door and up six flights of stairs, because Tristan lived on the third floor and there was no working elevator in his apartment building.

The boys both stumbled a couple times walking up the stairs, the drinks from earlier hitting them harder than they expected. Miles knew he was going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.

When they finally made it to Tristan’s door, Tristan fished his keys out of his pocket, taking an extra minute to get the key in the door, his hands unsteady, before unlocking it. Tristan walked in, leaving the door open behind him, not saying a word to Miles. Miles hesitated briefly at the threshold before following Tristan into his apartment.

It was a small studio apartment from what Miles could tell through his unclear vision; a bed in one corner, a small kitchen in another, and a door that Miles assumed lead to the bathroom. Tristan sat on the edge of his bed, pulling off his shoes, before climbing up the bed and lying down on his stomach, ready to pass out.

Miles approached the edge of the bed. “Are you okay, Tris? You need me to get you anything? A glass of water?” 

Tristan turned his head to the side, opening his eyes slightly to look at Miles. “I’m okay, really. Thank you for bringing me home. You didn’t have to do that.”

Miles smiled, shaking his head a little. “Anytime.” He bent over to run his hand lightly through Tristan’s dark curls of hair and pulled the comforter up over his body. “Goodnight, Tris.”

“G’night, Miles,” Tristan mumbled, closing his eyes. Miles headed to the door, knowing Tristan was already asleep before he got there. He shut the door behind him, heading back down the stairs and to the awaiting taxi to head home.

Miles barely made it to his apartment, passing out the moment his body hit his bed. What a night.


	4. Confidence

Miles climbed into the passenger seat of his brother’s silver Audi r8 idling outside of his apartment the next morning. He had left his car at the office before heading to the club last night and needed a ride to work.

Miles had an earsplitting headache and knew it was way too early for him to be on his way to the office. His shower had failed to fully wake him up and he had already taken some Advil that didn’t seem to be helping the pounding in his head. Despite Miles’ obvious hangover, he vividly remembered the time he spent with Tristan the night before.

“Jesus, Miles. What the hell happened to you last night?” Hunter watched his older brother, wide eyed, as Miles pushed the sunglasses he was wearing to the top of his head, squinting at the sudden bright sunlight.

Miles shrugged, not meeting his sibling’s insistent gaze, as he propped his glossy black dress shoes on the dashboard to lace them.

Hunter immediately swatted Miles’ feet off the tan leather interior of his expensive car. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit,” Miles mumbled as Hunter started the car, driving away from his apartment building and heading towards Hollingsworth Headquarters.

“I saw you with that boy.”

Miles huffed a laugh. “His name’s Tristan.”

“I know,” Hunter kept his eyes glued on the road. “You sleep with him?”

Miles’ eyebrows drew in, shooting an annoyed look at his brother. “No, I didn’t sleep with him, Hunter.”

Hunter kept silent for a moment before continuing, his voice much softer, “You really like him, don’t you?”

Miles hesitated slightly before answering. “Yeah, I really like him.”

Hunter nodded, dropping the current conversation as he pulled into the HCC parking lot. They both got out of the car and headed into the office to begin their day’s work, Miles still feeling the aftereffect of last night’s events.

 

It was midday when Miles opened up the Google search engine on his company computer. He luckily didn’t have any meetings that morning, and spent most of his time in his office lazily reviewing blueprints for the CSIS project. 

Miles couldn’t stop thinking about Tristan. Tristan had admitted to liking him last night, which gave Miles hope that maybe this could turn into something, something more than just friends. Tristan was unlike any other guy Miles had ever met and he couldn’t help the way he felt around him. It was like Miles was in a whole different world when he was with Tristan and knew he had developed strong feelings for the boy. He needed to see him again.

Miles thrummed his fingers against the keyboard, typing ‘Greenwin Theatre Toronto’ into the search bar. He recalled Tristan telling him that it was the opening for his play tonight.

Miles clicked the first link, bringing him to the theatre’s website. Sure enough, there was a calendar on the homepage with the show listed to start at seven o’clock tonight. He clicked the title of the play, bringing him to a list of the cast members. Tristan Milligan wasn’t performing in the play, but was named as an acting coach towards the top of the page.

Miles jotted down the address to the theatre on a post-it note, before exiting out of the Internet tab to get back to work. He rubbed his forehead, trying to rid himself of the still-present headache, and began flipping through the CSIS paperwork in front of him. That day seemed to be the longest workday of Miles’ life.

 

Miles parked his Beemer in the small lot behind the Greenwin theatre uptown at half past seven. He thought the building looked little from the outside, but as he entered the theatre, Miles was proven wrong.

He paid for a ticket and walked into the darkened auditorium filled with deep red clothed seats along with a mezzanine floor. It was a much larger room than he expected, and Miles silently found an empty seat in the back row of the first level. He brought his eyes to the stage upfront, where a group of three people were already performing.

Miles wasn’t very interested in the play. Theatre had never been anything he really enjoyed seeing, remembering how his mother used to drag him along to Frankie’s shows as a child. Miles preferred to watch hockey or other sporting events and had always found acting to be rather boring.

He knew it would be a whole other story if Tristan were the one acting on stage. Miles had only come here to see and support the other boy. He straightened in his chair, looking in the front rows of chairs, trying to find a familiar head of dark curls.

Miles finally landed his eyes on Tristan, standing against the wall to the left of the stage, his arms folded in front of him, head tilted up, his eyes on the actors. Miles couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face at seeing the boy. He was dressed in a dark grey suit with a pale purple dress shirt underneath, the spotlights from the stage reflecting onto him.

Miles kept his eyes glued to Tristan for the remainder of the play, using all of his capacity not to stand up and go to him during the performance. As the show finally came to a close, the actors all took bows on stage and Tristan stood clapping for his students. 

The curtain closed and the lights came on in the theatre, Miles immediately standing up to make his move towards Tristan. He watched as Tristan started heading towards a set of doors leading backstage, and followed quickly behind him.

Once through the doors, Miles was close enough to call out to Tristan, stopping the other boy in his tracks. “Tristan!” The small room backstage was crowded with actors all talking and squealing loudly with each other.

Tristan swiveled around, looking for the source of the voice. His eyes finally met Miles’ and his mouth opened slightly in surprise before breaking into a grin. He moved back towards Miles, where it was less crowded by the door, stopping in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh—I wanted to see you.” Miles was flustered by the breathtaking boy standing before him. “You really taught them how to act?” He gestured with his head to the actors hugging and talking towards the back of the room.

Tristan glanced over his shoulder and laughed. “I try to. They did pretty good for the first show.”

“That’s amazing.” Even though he wasn’t interested in acting, he was thoroughly impressed that Tristan could teach them to perform the way they did. Tristan only smiled, dazzling Miles in the process.

There was a moment of silence where they just stared into each other’s eyes before Tristan spoke, clearing his throat. “Thank you for bringing me home last night. I clearly had too much to drink.” His cheeks turned slightly pink, almost embarrassed.

Miles shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. From what I remember, I had a good time,” he joked.

Tristan laughed lightly, before bringing his hand slowly to rest on the side of Miles’ neck. His fingers were cool against Miles’ heated skin. He lowered his voice, speaking softly and affectionately. “What are you really doing here, Miles?”

Miles swallowed hard, breaking eye contact with Tristan to lower his gaze. “Last night, I really wanted to kiss you. But, I was drunk and you were drunk, so I didn’t.” He raised his head to lock eyes with Tristan again. “I like you, Tris. A lot.”

“And you came all the way here, to tell me this?” Tristan kept his voice velvety, moving a tad closer.

“No,” Miles’ face drew in a scowl before relaxing as he was met with raised eyebrows from Tristan. “I came to do this.”

Miles stepped forward, closing the distance between them, pressing his lips against Tristan’s. His hands flew to rest against the other boy’s cheeks, keeping his face close to his. Miles kissed Tristan, their lips immediately molding together.

Tristan moved his hand on Miles’ neck down to the back of his shoulder, his other hand gripping his waist, and continued moving his parted lips against Miles’. The kiss was gentle, but heated, as they both pulled away breathless.

“Wow,” Tristan whispered, keeping his face close to Miles’, his hands still on the other boy, their eyes locking.

“Tristan!” a blonde-haired girl called out from a group of people, interrupting their moment as Tristan looked over his shoulder at the girl. “Come here, we’re going to take a group picture,” she waved him over.

Tristan nodded at her, returning his attention to Miles before him. “I should go,” he motioned with his head back to the cast, but kept his hands firm on Miles.

“Yeah, go ahead.” Miles smiled. “Congratulations on the play. The acting was really great, Tris.”

“Thanks you for coming.” The corners of Tristan’s mouth quirked up. “I’ll talk to you later?”

Miles nodded and Tristan took the opportunity to tug him forward, kissing him softly on the lips once more. “Bye, Miles.” He ran his hand from Miles’ shoulder down his arm, to intertwine their fingers as Tristan began walking backwards, before letting go.

Miles watched Tristan turn around and go join the group of cast members posing to take a picture, all laughing with each other. He smiled once more before exited through the doors he entered and leaving the theatre.

 

Miles surprised himself by not driving directly home after seeing Tristan. He made his way downtown, parking in front of another lavish apartment building. The apartment building wasn’t quite as extreme as his own, but was slightly more modern and contemporary. He needed someone to talk to, so he was going to see his only friend outside of work and his siblings.

He got out of his car, making his way through the first set of doors to the large panel of door buzzer systems, labeled in alphabetical order for each apartment tenant. His finger familiarly found its way to the button towards the middle of the first column, labeled G. Cardinal. 

He pressed down on the button for a moment, waiting silently for a response. When none came and he grew impatient, Miles laid his finger on the button, knowing it was undoubtedly making an obnoxious buzzing sound throughout her apartment.

“Can I fucking help you?” the intercom finally voiced, the girl clearly annoyed.

Miles chuckled, “Just buzz me in, Grace.”

A second later, Miles heard the second set of doors click, unlocking and allowing him to enter the apartment building. He got in the elevator, taking it to the seventh floor, and walking down the hallway before opening the unlocked door to her apartment.

Grace was sitting cross-legged on the white leather couch, her black hair with blue streaks tied into a messy bun on top of her head. Her MacBook Pro was perched in her lap along with headphones around her neck. She didn’t look up from her laptop as Miles entered the room, closing the door behind him and pulling off his shoes to toss next to the door.

Grace had been the one person Miles had genuinely stayed in touch with after Degrassi. They were never close in high school, but after attending Toronto University together, they became good friends. Grace and Miles had never had much in common with very contrasting personalities, however, they both enjoyed spending time with each other and felt that they could tell the other anything. 

Grace currently worked for some high-end animation company in the programming department in Toronto. She’d made a name for herself, not to the extent that Miles had, but was well off. 

Miles made his way silently to sit on the opposing side of the couch, pulling his legs up in front of him and sitting sideways to face her. She finally closed her MacBook, placing it on the glass coffee table in front of the couch, before turning her eyes on Miles.

“You look nice,” she commented, losing the normal sarcasm present in her tone. He wasn’t dressed in his usual business suit, nor a hoodie and sweatpants, which he typically wore when hanging out in Grace’s apartment, since he had just come from Tristan’s play.

Miles stared blankly at his socked feet, smirking slightly and seeming completely out of it, so Grace continued. “I guess there’s a good reason why you’re here on a Thursday night, irritating me by laying on the fucking buzzer.”

When Miles didn’t respond, Grace stood up, heading towards the open kitchen, separated by a black marble granite breakfast bar. He listened to her open and close a couple cupboards, before returning with a bottle of Cīroc Vodka in hand. She sat back down on the couch, twisting off the cap to the bottle and handing it to Miles.

Miles lifted the bottle to his lips, taking multiple gulps of the hard liquor. “Easy, killer,” Grace remarked as Miles brought the bottle down, pulling a face as he swallowed. He passed the bottle to Grace, who took a swig.

“I’m seeing someone,” Miles finally spoke, bringing his eyes to meet Grace’s.

“Yeah? About time,” Grace mumbled, taking another sip of vodka.

“You know him,” he continued.

Grace sat up straighter, eyes wide, leaning forward. “Jesus, he’s from the company? Dammit, Miles. Hunter is literally going to kill you.”

Miles shook his head. “No, not from the company.” Grace leaned back, re-crossing her legs. “He’s from high school.”

“Oh my god. Zigmund? I fucking knew Zig Novak swung both ways. Fucking called that.”

Miles laughed, reaching forward to pull the glass bottle out of her hands. “Not Zig.” He took a drink as Grace met him with an expectant gaze. “Tristan Milligan,” he supplied.

Grace raised her eyebrows, trying to read Miles’ face. “No shit, really?” Miles nodded. “Haven’t you already been there, done that?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s different this time.”

“How so?”

“Well to begin, I’m not some horny teenager questioning my sexuality.”

Grace laughed. “You sure about that first part?” Miles chuckled, bringing his foot out to kick Grace’s knee. She ignored his kick, reaching her hand out for Miles to hand over the bottle. “Have you had sex with him?”

Miles brought the bottle to his lips once more before giving it to Grace. “I swear, you and Hunter are the exact same person. No, we haven’t had sex. I kissed him tonight, that’s it.”

“Oh god, you actually like him,” Grace realized, watching the way Miles’ face became flushed. “Shit, Miles.” She brought the bottle to her mouth.

“I really fucking like him.” Miles dropped his gaze back down to his feet and lowered his voice. “I’m scared.”

Grace nearly choked on the vodka she had took a swig of before swallowing it down. She held the neck of the bottle in one hand and grabbed the nearest pillow on the couch with the other, throwing it at Miles, who wasn’t fast enough to deflect it. Grace set the bottle down roughly on the coffee table and stood up, turning on Miles.

“Shut the fuck up. What are you scared of, Miles? Scared of finally being happy?” Miles stared wide-eyed up at Grace who had significantly raised the volume of her tone, his mouth dropping open slightly. “Stop being a pussy. If you want to mope around and talk about how afraid you are of having feelings for the guy, go talk to Frankie. I’m not going to listen to you talk yourself out of something that could be really good in your life.”

She sighed, lowering her voice to a normal volume. “You know how I know you’re serious about Tristan?” Grace didn’t wait for Miles to give an answer. “You haven’t tried to get into his pants yet. Instead, you’re coming to me at 9:30 p.m. when you have work tomorrow, freaking out because you kissed the guy. You need to man the fuck up. Where’s the confident Miles Hollingsworth that I know? You like him, then go fucking make something of it.” Grace offered a close-mouthed smile, tucking the stray hairs that had fallen out of her bun, behind her ear. “Stop being a little bitch.”

They were both silent for a moment before Miles picked up the pillow Grace had thrown at him and chucked it back at her, breaking into laughter. “You are such an asshole,” Miles spoke causing Grace to laugh, too.

“I’m an accurate asshole, who also happens to be your best friend.” She picked up the vodka bottle on the table, still laughing, and handed it to Miles, before sitting back down on the couch.

They sat passing the bottle back and forth, taking drinks, as their laughter finally calmed down. “You’re right. God, what’s wrong with me?” Miles looked straight ahead as he spoke, staring at the blank plasma television on the wall.

Grace snorted. “You’re falling in love.”

Miles sighed, thinking that over. It was too soon for him to be falling in love with Tristan. They were only reunited a couple weeks ago, had only seen each other three or four times since. However, the feelings Miles had for Tristan were unlike any he ever had. Sure Miles had been in love before, but this felt so much different. Tristan was the only thing Miles could ever think about, the only person who seemed to interest him lately. Could Miles be falling in love with Tristan?

Miles turned his head to look at Grace. “Why am I scared of falling in love with him?”

Grace shrugged. “I think you’re more scared of messing up and losing him again.” She reached over to push him, both of them cracking a smile. “You were more sure of yourself in high school. Maybe that’s why Tristan was in love with you for all those years.”

Miles scoffed, “Shut up. He was not.”

Grace smirked, taking a drink of vodka. “Oh, come on. All of Degrassi knew he was obsessed with you.”

Miles laughed, grabbing the bottle from her hands, not denying that Tristan did have a certain fondness for him in high school. Maybe Miles was too stupid to act on his feelings then, but he wasn’t now.

Miles knew better then to drive home after drinking, so he crashed on Grace’s couch for the night. Right before drifting to sleep, he checked his phone to find a text from Tristan. 

_Thanks for coming tonight. ___

Miles replied, before falling asleep with a goofy smile on his face. _Anytime, Tris. ___


	5. Come on Get Higher

Miles shifted on the couch, waking up to the sound of Grace moving around in the kitchen. He rubbed at his eyes as she approached him, setting a cup of coffee down on the table in front of him.

“Time to get up. It’s already quarter to ten. You didn’t have any meetings this morning, did you?”

Miles squinted up at Grace, taking a moment to realize what she was saying. Remembering it was Friday, he immediately sat up, stiffening on the couch. “Shit! I have a conference call with CSIS in a half hour.”

Grace laughed, watching Miles pick up his cup of coffee and down it, spilling some on his chin and shirt. “You’re screwed,” she commented as Miles wiped at his mouth, setting down the empty coffee cup and standing up.

“I’ll talk to you later, Grace.” He quickly threw on his shoes before racing out the door. 

 

Miles made it to his apartment in record time, most definitely speeding through the streets of Toronto. He hurriedly took a shower and changed into work clothes, before driving to the Hollingsworth office.

Traffic was a bitch when Miles entered the more commercial section of the city, not making it to the HCC building until twenty after. He prayed that CSIS hadn’t called yet, knowing Hunter was going to kill him for making them wait.

Miles headed straight for Hunter’s office, noticing the door was closed, meaning the conference call had most likely already started. He took a deep breath before opening the door.

The phone was on speaker as Hunter looked up, fixing Miles with a stern gaze. “Miles just walked in,” he told CSIS on the other line with a friendly tone, very unlike his facial expression.

Miles took a seat across from his brother, looking down at the paperwork before him. “I apologize. Traffic was a nightmare today.”

The CSIS representative laughed it off, moving on to discuss the contract between Hollingsworth Construction and CSIS. Miles and Hunter both flipped through their copies of the unsigned contract, examining and reviewing each section with the delegate. It took some time going through the extensive contract that included everything about the corporate project, comprising hired laborers, background checks, and of course payment.

“If we’re in agreement with the contract, we can set a meeting for next week to sign-off and get this show on the road,” the CSIS rep wrapped up the conference call after assessing the last of the contract.

“Absolutely. We’ll be in touch.” Miles flipped close the stapled paperwork in his hand.

“Thank you,” Hunter spoke before ending the call. It was after eleven; that being one of the longest conference calls regarding a contract Miles and Hunter had ever sat through. Miles rose from his seat, running a hand through his hair, and gathered his papers to bring into his own office.

“This CSIS project is important, Miles. It’s the biggest project we’ve ever done. We can’t fuck it up,” Hunter stated, causing Miles to pause and look at him.

“You think I don’t know that?”

Hunter raised his voice harshly. “You were late. Again. Do you know how bad that looks for the company? I’m not going to let you—“

Miles cut him off. “Jesus, can we not do this right now? I don’t need another lecture, Hunter.” He huffed a sigh, tired of the conversation already. “I overslept, I’m sorry.”

“What? You can’t even set an alarm anymore?” Hunter’s tone was accusing.

“No, I crashed at Grace’s!” Miles snapped.

Hunter rolled his eyes, knowing that Miles must have been too drunk to drive home. “I know you don’t seem to give a shit about this company lately, but I do!”

Miles breathed a laugh with no humor behind it. “Fuck you. I care about this company just as much as you do.” He shook his head in disbelief, tossing the contract he was holding back onto Hunter’s desk. “You know what? I’m gonna go. I’m sure you can hold down the company for the day, since you already think you run it.”

“You’re really going to leave?” Miles didn’t answer, only turned his back on Hunter to head for the door. “Are you serious, Miles?” Hunter watched incredulously as his brother opened the door and walked out. “Miles!”

He walked straight out of the office building, not looking back.

 

Miles made it to the roof of his apartment, after changing into a pair of jeans and pulling on a sweatshirt to be more comfortable. It was a rather chilly day, the temperature beginning to drop as it neared the end of October.

The rooftop was deserted, most of the apartments tenants at work for the day. Miles sat in the same couch tucked into the corner that Tristan and him had occupied just two weeks prior.

He still felt wound up from his argument with Hunter, but thinking about it only made Miles more frustrated. With a sigh, he pulled his phone out of the front pocket of his jeans, shooting a text to Tristan. _What are you up to? ___

Tristan’s reply came a moment after. _Just got back from a jog, going to jump in the shower. How’s work? ___

Miles smiled to himself, picturing Tristan all sweaty from running, before texting back. _Ditched work an hour ago, rough day. ___

He set his phone down on the low glass table in front of the couch and reached into his pocket, fishing out the small plastic bag he had grabbed from his apartment before retreating to the roof.

Miles leaned forward opening up the bag to pull out a tiny piece of white paper, placing it flat on the table. He shook the ground weed in the bag onto the paper, arranging it into a neat line at the edge. Miles rolled the joint, licking the side of the paper to seal it.

He reached into his pocket once more to retrieve a lighter, placing the joint between his lips and lighting up. Miles took a long drag, holding it in for a moment before breathing out the smoke.

He immediately began to relax, as the marijuana definitely took his edge off. Miles needed this after dealing with his younger brother’s bullshit and the stress of CSIS.

Miles sat on the rooftop, smoking leisurely as he stared out into Toronto’s skyline, finding some peace. He eventually had to roll another joint after he finished the first, before lighting up once again.

“Thought I’d find you here.” 

Miles looked up, breathing out a puff of smoke to find Tristan crossing the rooftop towards him. He hadn’t even heard the door open, too distracted by his own tranquility.

“How’d you get up here?” Miles grinned as Tristan slowed to a stop in front of the table.

“Had to beg the man at the front desk to let me up.”

Miles laughed. “How’d you manage that? Frank’s usually pretty strict.”

“Well, I can be pretty persuasive.” Tristan drew his bottom lip between his teeth, watching as Miles’ eyes darkened.

Miles shook his head lightly, bringing the joint back up to his mouth to take another hit. Tristan watched him curiously as he tilted his head back, blowing the smoke above his head, before moving to sit beside him. “You smoke?” Miles asked with a raise of his eyebrows, holding the joint out for Tristan to take if he wanted.

“Sometimes,” Tristan responded, taking the joint between his fingers, the brief contact of their hands sending jolts through Miles. Tristan took an even pull, Miles watching him with surprise.

“The Tristan I knew from Degrassi was totally against weed. In fact, I think he held an intervention once to get me to quit smoking.” The corner of Miles’ mouth turned up into a smile as he recalled a time when they were dating that Tristan banded together with Hunter and Frankie to try and get Miles to stop abusing marijuana.

Tristan huffed a laugh. “I was never against smoking, Miles. You were just a complete stoner in high school,” he teased, leaning slightly so his shoulder brushed against Miles’, before taking another hit.

Miles kept his eyes glued to the other boy, watching his smooth lips surround the joint. “I’m not the same person I was in high school. Sure, I smoke every once in a while, but it’s nothing compared to what you remember.”

Tristan looked up from the joint in his hand, meeting Miles’ gaze with open eyes and a genuine smile. “I know.” He held the joint out for Miles to take.

Miles took another drag, letting his head fall back against the couch to look up at the sky. His phone started vibrating against the table, but Miles made no move to pick it up.

“Your phone’s ringing,” Tristan commented, setting his hand down on Miles’ thigh to get his attention.

“If it’s Hunter, I’m not answering.”

Tristan leaned forward to look at the screen of Miles’ phone facing up on the table, seeing that it was in fact Hunter. He leaned back. “Why’d you skip work?”

“Because my brother’s a dick,” Miles replied bluntly.

Tristan remained silent as Miles stubbed the end of the joint out on the table, setting it down. He stood up, running a hand through his hair, before starting to pace in front of Tristan. 

“I was like ten minutes late to a conference call and he flipped a shit on me. Started telling me I don’t care about the company. You know, it’s not always about the fucking company.” Miles stopped walking, turning to face Tristan, his voice and expression softening. “There are other things right now that are more important to me.”

Tristan stared up at him, his lips slightly parted in wonder. “Like what?” he murmured.

Miles moved forward suddenly, climbing into Tristan lap, straddling his legs. Tristan’s hands found Miles’ waist, holding him in place, their gaze un-breaking. “Like you,” Miles whispered, his lips inches from Tristan’s, before surging forward to close that space.

Tristan’s breath caught right before their lips met, Miles licking into the other boy’s mouth. They both pushed against each other, trying to remain as close as possible as they made out. Miles’ hands ran up Tristan’s back and shoulders to thread through his dark curls.

The kissing was passionate and hungry, Tristan sucking hard on Miles’ bottom lip, pushing his tongue inside his mouth. Tristan’s grip was firm on Miles’ hips, his fingernails lightly digging into his sides.

Miles rolled his hips, grinding his crotch down on Tristan’s, earning a gasp from the other boy. He could feel Tristan hardening, Miles’ own bulge becoming well defined through his jeans during the lip lock.

Miles begrudgedly disconnected their lips, keeping close to Tristan as they both struggled for breath. He moved his hands from the other boy’s hair to place over Tristan’s own hands gripping his waist.

“You wanna.. go down to my apartment?” Miles asked.

Tristan nodded eagerly and Miles pushed forward to kiss him once more, running his tongue along the part of Tristan’s lips before pulling back. 

He crawled out of Tristan’s lap, standing up and taking both of the other boy’s hands in his own. “Come on,” Miles pulled him up off the couch, before leading the way to the door to exit the rooftop.

They headed down the three flights of stairs and into the elevator to ride to the 43rd floor. Miles unlocked the door to his apartment, pulling Tristan in behind him, and kicking the door shut with the heel of his foot.

Tristan stood in front of Miles, facing away from him as he looked around the apartment, taking in the vast living area. The modern-style kitchen was divided from the living room by two hardwood steps. On the far wall of the apartment were wide windows with curtains drawn back, displaying the city.

Miles stepped towards Tristan, wrapping his arms around the boy from behind. He dipped his head to press breathy open-mouthed kisses along Tristan’s neck and jawline. Tristan leaned back, relaxing to Miles’ touch.

He turned around in Miles’ arms, pressing forward to kiss Miles’ eager lips. Tristan ran his tongue along Miles’ bottom lip, Miles opening his mouth to allow him to enter. Their tongues moved together, Miles slowly nudging Tristan backwards towards the couch.

Miles’ hands wandered up the back of Tristan’s shirt, feeling the back muscles behind Tristan’s soft and warm skin. Tristan’s legs hit the edge of the couch, and Miles stopped kissing him briefly to pull Tristan’s shirt over his head.

Tristan met Miles’ eyes, smiling, as Miles dropped the article of clothing to the floor. Tristan traced his fingers up Miles’ neck and into his hair, grabbing onto brown locks, before pressing his lips against Miles’ again.

Miles stepped forward, pushing Tristan to lie on the couch and following him down, keeping their mouths connected.

Miles situated himself between Tristan’s legs, running his hands along Tristan’s bare stomach and abs. He began moving his mouth down Tristan’s jawline and neck, kissing and sucking on his skin along the way.

Miles’ tongue swirled against Tristan’s collarbone, pulling the skin into his mouth and biting lightly, triggering Tristan to gasp. Tristan tugged lightly on Miles’ hair, causing the other boy to look up and meet his hooded gaze. Miles moved back up to kiss his lips, bringing his own hands lower to fumble with the belt and zipper of Tristan’s pants.

A loud banging on the door interrupted Tristan and Miles, both of the boys pulling back to lock eyes, freezing in place.

“Open up, Miles. I know you’re in there,” Hunter voiced from the other side of the door, continuing to bang. 

“Fuck,” Miles muttered under his breath, rolling off of Tristan to stand up and walk towards the door.

He opened the door halfway, standing to block the entrance. “Can I help you?” he asked his younger brother.

“Look, I know you’re pissed at me and I’m sorry I overreacted.” Hunter’s words came out it a rush. “I brought Chipotle.” Hunter held up the brown paper bag in his hand.

Miles huffed a laugh, leaning against the door. “That smells so good.”

Hunter’s eyebrows drew together as he took a good look at Miles, taking in his disheveled hair and glassy eyes. “Wait, are you stoned?”

Miles didn’t answer fast enough and Hunter pushed past him into the apartment. Hunter stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Tristan sitting on the couch, pulling his shirt over his head.

“I didn’t realize you had a guest.” Hunter looked at Miles with raised eyebrows.

“You remember Tristan,” Miles spoke cocking his head towards Tristan. Tristan stood up from the couch, looking back and forth between the two brothers.

“You skipped work to get high and hook up with your boyfriend?” Hunter shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“I’m going to go. I’ll talk to you later, Miles,” Tristan spoke up, meeting Miles’ gaze with a closed mouth smile. Miles hesitated before giving a short nod. Tristan walked out of the apartment, closing the door silently behind him.

“You could be nice, you know.” Miles grabbed the Chipotle bag out of Hunter’s hand and headed into the kitchen to sit at the breakfast bar.

Hunter rolled his eyes before following his brother to the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to interrupt and scare him off,” he repented, not wanting to cock-block his own brother.

Miles sighed, pulling the two containers of food out of the bag. “It’s fine, Hunter.”

Hunter walked around the other side of the counter, opening up a drawer to retrieve a couple of forks. He handed one to Miles, who slid a container of food across the counter to him. They both began eating.

They ate quietly for a couple minutes before Hunter finally broke the silence. “I can’t run the company without you, Miles. I need you. Hollingsworth Construction needs you.”

“I’m right here, Hunter, and I’m not going anywhere. That company means the world to me.” Miles smiled. “I’m not going to walk away from all of our hard work just because you’re a jerk every once in a while.”

Hunter chuckled. “Oh, and you’re never a jerk?”

“Never.” Miles tried to keep a straight face, but broke into laughter. Hunter flung a forkful of food at him in response, which hit his sweatshirt and fell onto the counter. “Hey, I’ll be on time from now on, okay?”

“Okay,” Hunter nodded with a smile, before they both dug into their food again.

 

Miles called Tristan that evening, wanting to hear his voice. He felt uncomfortable with the way they had left things after Hunter interrupted their make-out, and wanted to make sure Tristan was okay.

“Hey,” Tristan picked up the line.

“Hey, Tris. I’m sorry about earlier with Hunter. I didn’t want for you to leave after we, you know..” His voice trailed off, not knowing how to put what he was trying to say into words.

Tristan seemed to understand what he was trying to say. “No, it’s okay. Seriously, don’t worry about it. How’d it go with your brother?”

“Uh— it’s fine. We talked and worked everything out. I’m sorry you had to see that. I know Hunter can be kind of rude.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Miles. I know how brothers can be.” Tristan paused for a moment before continuing, “I don’t want to get in-between you and your company.”

“No, Tristan, you’re not. I promise you, this stupid fight between Hunter and I had nothing to do with you.” Miles let out a small sigh, worried about losing Tristan. “Do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?”

“A date?” Tristan questioned as Miles held his breath waiting for a reply. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

Miles smiled against the phone, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

They both said goodnight and hung up the phone. Miles climbed into bed early to get a good night’s rest before his date tomorrow.


	6. Fun and Games

Miles barged into Hunter’s apartment around noon the following day.

“Sup, nerds.” Miles jumped over the back of the couch, landing beside his brother, who was staring at the flat screen TV intently, Xbox controller in hand. Grace was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch; also playing whatever video game was displayed across the screen. 

Frankie looked up from painting her nails on a magazine in her lap, sitting in an armchair next to the couch. “Hi, Miles,” she greeted with a smile.

“Miles, check out this new game I’ve been animating.” Grace tossed him the controller in her hand. “Supposed to submit it to my boss next week.”

Miles picked up the controller, looking towards the screen to begin navigating his player through the map. “Sick graphics,” he commented, raising his gun in the video game to shoot at an oncoming zombie.

“Hunter’s been enthralled with the game for the past hour.” Frankie rolled her eyes, clearly bored of watching the game, causing Miles to laugh. She held out her hand in front of her to examine her freshly manicured nails.

“Shut up, Frankenstein.” Hunter kept his eyes glued to the TV. “Cover my back. I’m invading this warehouse,” he instructed Miles, before his player broke through the wooden door and began attacking the zombies living inside. 

Miles followed Hunter into the warehouse, shooting at the enemies. “Fuck, I’m out of ammo.” Miles clicked to reload just as a zombie captivated him, inevitably killing his player.

Grace laughed in amusement as the words ‘Game Over’ flashed across the TV screen. Hunter turned to look at his brother, narrowing his eyes. Miles had cost him the game and knew that Hunter wasn’t happy about it.

“Thank God that’s over.” Frankie sat up straighter in her chair, twisting the cap to her pink nail polish closed.

“You suck,” Hunter told Miles, causing Grace to giggle more.

“Relax. It’s just a game.” Miles set his controller down with a low sigh, deciding to change the subject. “I have a date with Tristan at two.” All three of them looked over at Miles curiously.

“Why so early?” Grace asked.

“He’s gotta work at the theatre tonight.”

“Well, where are you taking him?” Frankie questioned, leaning forward in her seat clearly interested.

Miles rubbed at his forehead. “I don’t know, yet. I kind of thought you guys could help me out with that.”

“Take him to the hockey game,” Hunter offered.

“Does Tristan even like Hockey?” Grace voiced.

Miles shrugged. “His brother used to play.” Miles recalled that Owen Milligan played for the Ice Hounds at Degrassi before he transferred there.

“No, you have to do something romantic. It’s your first real date,” Frankie interrupted. Her eyes lit up as she came up with an idea. “You should cook for him.”

Grace snorted. “Miles doesn’t know how to cook.”

“I do, too,” Miles defended himself.

“Easy Mac doesn’t count,” Hunter remarked causing Grace and Frankie to burst into laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Miles spoke, quieting their laughter. “I have an idea.”

 

Miles picked up Tristan from his apartment later that day, the boy sitting in the leather seat of the BMW next to him. Miles smiled the second he saw Tristan. No one could make him as happy as Tristan seemed to.

“Hey,” Tristan greeted him, leaning over to press a soft kiss on Miles’ lips. 

“You ready?” Miles asked, threading his right hand into Tristan’s after switching the car into drive.

“Yes.” Tristan gave Miles’ hand a light squeeze before he drove away, heading towards their old neighborhood. Tristan began to recognize their surroundings, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. “We visiting our parents?”

Miles chuckled, “Not exactly.” He glanced at Tristan from the corner of his eye, who still seemed bewildered.

Finally, Miles parked his car on the side of a road, directly across from a small park that Tristan found to be very familiar. Tristan stared out the window for a moment, before turning towards Miles, a smirk plastered across his face. “Are we playing basketball?”

Miles smiled, opening up the door to his car. “Come on.” He popped the trunk before he got out and headed around the car towards the back. Tristan followed him to the trunk as Miles opened it, pulling out a basketball.

Miles and Tristan used to play basketball all the time together back when they were sophomores in high school. The basketball team at Degrassi was where they really bonded and became best friends. The two boys always used to practice at this park every weekend, playing one-on-one with each other.

Miles bounce passed the ball to Tristan on the asphalt road, who caught it with ease and began dribbling across the street to the small basketball court in the park. Miles shut the trunk to his car and locked it before jogging to catch up with Tristan.

Tristan stopped at the free-throw line, Miles moving to stand next to him. “I haven’t played basketball in years,” Tristan said, glancing at Miles before taking a shot.

Miles watched the ball sour through the air and into the basket with a swoosh as it passed through the chain net. “Doesn’t seem like it,” Miles observed, a little impressed, even though it was just a free-throw.

Tristan went after the ball, picking it up and passing it to Miles. “You’re turn.”

Miles took a shot from where he stood, the ball bouncing onto the backboard and rolling over the rim. Tristan chuckled as Miles missed his shot before collecting the ball and passing it back to Miles.

“Alright, I got the next one.” Miles smiled, moving backwards to step behind the three-point line. He took a shot and this time, the ball landed in the net.

“Not bad,” Tristan commented, picking up the ball once again from where he stood by the net.

“Ready for one-on-one?” Miles raised his eyebrows, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re on,” Tristan challenged, checking the ball to Miles.

“First one to twenty-one.” Miles took off, dribbling towards the basket, dodging Tristan in the process. He executed a lay-up, the ball bouncing off the backboard into the hoop.

Tristan brought the ball back, dribbling up slightly before taking a shot and making the basket.

The boys played on, getting a little competitive with each other, as it was a close game. Miles kept putting his hands on Tristan, distracting him from making a shot. In the end, Miles won 21-18 when he sunk a three-pointer.

“Good game,” Tristan spoke, grabbing both of Miles’ hands to tangle their fingers together. “Even though you played dirty,” he tacked on teasingly.

“How so?” Miles feigned innocence, tugging on Tristan’s hands to bring the boy closer. He leaned in to kiss Tristan, sucking lightly on his bottom lip.

Tristan kissed him back eagerly, parting his mouth over Miles’ top lip before pulling away. “Where to now?”

Miles let go of one of Tristan’s hands, picking up the basketball and started walking back towards his car.

“That was only part one of our date,” Miles answered. “There’s a part two.” He let go of Tristan’s hand to throw the basketball in his trunk.

“What does part two entitle?” Tristan asked, climbing into the passenger seat.

Miles got in and started the car. “You’ll see.”

He pulled onto the road, driving away from their old neighborhood, back towards downtown.

A couple minutes into their drive, Miles’ phone started ringing through the Beemer’s speakers. He looked towards the screen on the center console, where it indicated his mother was calling him.

Despite how downhill things had gone with his dad, Miles still talked to his mom and saw her every once in a while for holidays and brunches with the twins. He hadn’t talked to her in a while, so Miles knew he probably should answer, hoping Tristan wouldn’t mind. Their conversations were usually pretty quick.

Miles looked to Tristan quickly who gave him a smile. “You can answer, I don’t mind.” It was like Tristan could tell what he was thinking.

Miles smiled back before pressing the green accept button on the center console. “Hey, mom,” he spoke aloud through the Bluetooth.

“Hi, honey. How are you?” His mother’s voice came through the car’s speakers.

“I’m good. Everything okay?”

“Yes. I just wanted to touch base with you about the twin’s birthday next weekend. You’re coming for dinner, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Miles answered before asking the one dreadful question he really didn’t want to hear the answer to. “Is dad going to be there?”

He heard his mother sigh in understanding. “Well, you know, he’s always around for the twin’s birthday, Miles.”

Miles nodded even though he knew his mom couldn’t see.

“Hey, Hunter tells me you have a new boyfriend. You should bring him,” his mother’s voice picked up enthusiastically.

Miles’ face blushed as he turned slightly to look at Tristan out of the corner of his eye. Tristan’s body was lightly shaking as he laughed silently.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Miles answered.

“Okay, honey. I’ll see you next Saturday then.”

“Bye, mom.” Miles ended the call, keeping his eyes on the road as he continued to drive.

“So, you have a boyfriend?” Tristan asked after a moment of quietness.

Miles rolled his eyes, smiling. “That is if he wants to be.”

Tristan didn’t answer right away, causing Miles to start to worry. He parked in a lot behind a large concrete building as they reached the destination for part two of their date.

Miles turned towards Tristan in the leather seat, watching the boy curiously. Maybe Tristan didn’t want to commit to him just yet. Miles couldn’t blame him, but he still felt a wave of disappointment.

Tristan let out a small sigh before shifting to face Miles, meeting his eyes. “I like you, Miles. I really like you.”

Miles’ eyebrows pulled together as he opened his mouth to voice that he felt the same way, but Tristan cut him off. “Do you remember what I told you about my last relationship?”

Miles nodded, remembering when Tristan shared how his ex-boyfriend used to get violent with him.

Tristan looked out the front windshield of the car. “I know it’s not going to happen again. I’m just— I’m scared to be in a relationship when my last one went so horribly wrong. I’m more guarded now. It’s hard for me to trust people.”

Miles reached forward slowly, tracing his fingertips lightly across the top of Tristan’s hand. Tristan looked over at him, meeting his gaze once more. “Tris, I would never hurt you.” Tristan’s eyes were watery as he took in Miles’ honest expression in front of him. 

Tristan turned his palm over, taking Miles’ hand in his. “I know that. I am so sure that you care for me and would never intentionally hurt me. That’s what scares me.” Tristan ran his empty hand over his head, struggling to voice how he was feeling. “It scares me that I’m able to trust and feel so strongly for you so easily after everything that has happened with me.”

Tristan looked back down before continuing. “That’s why I didn’t call you after the night at Little Miss Steaks and your rooftop. I was afraid of the feelings I felt for you.”

Miles gave Tristan’s hand a reassuring squeeze and the other boy looked up. “Hey, there’s no pressure,” Miles started. “I understand you went through a lot in Ottawa and I _hate _that guy for hurting you.” Miles locked his teeth, shaking his head. “You didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that.”__

__Miles spoke softer, “But there’s no pressure for us. I can take you home and we can skip part two. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to jump into anything you’re not ready for.”_ _

__Tristan shook his head frantically. “No, Miles. I want to stay with you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my boyfriend. I want all of that, with you.” Tristan leaned forward, placing a hand on Miles’ cheek. “It’s just scary how quickly I’m falling for you.”_ _

__Miles pushed forward, connecting his lips with Tristan’s. Tristan immediately began kissing and licking into Miles’ mouth, tilting his head to the side slightly and pressing his nose against Miles’. They kissed for a couple moments, tasting each other, before pulling away breathless._ _

__Miles’ heart was beating a mile a minute as he watched Tristan set his head back against the seat, keeping his eyes locked on Miles. “I’ve only felt this way about someone one other time. Can you guess when?”_ _

__Miles shook his head, still trying to catch his breath, even though he had a pretty good idea as to what Tristan was going to say next._ _

__“In high school when we dated.” Tristan laughed at himself. “And it wasn’t nearly as strong as I feel now.”_ _

__Miles smiled, placing a hand on Tristan’s thigh. “You are one of the best things to happen to me in a really long time, Tris. It amazes me, along with frightens me, how I have such intense feelings for you in such a short time. None of this is one-sided.”_ _

__Tristan looked up from Miles’ hand on his leg and smiled to himself, thinking for a moment. He then leaned forward again suggestively, bringing his lips so they were almost brushing against Miles’. “So you’re my boyfriend?” he whispered, his breath tickling Miles’ skin._ _

__Miles nodded and Tristan kissed his lips shortly before pulling back. “Does this mean I get to go to Hunter’s and Frankie’s birthday?”_ _

__Miles laughed. “We’ll talk about it. Now, come here.” He pulled Tristan over by the back of the neck, slotting his lips with Tristan’s and kissing him passionately._ _

__Tristan hummed lowly against Miles’ lips before the kiss ended. “I’m ready for part two,” Tristan announced, opening the car door to step out, Miles following his lead. “Where are we?” Tristan eyed the concrete building suspiciously._ _

__Miles smiled, walking around the car to grab his hand. “Come on.”_ _

__They walked up to the door, Miles using a key from his pocket to unlock it. An alarm sounded and they walked through another set of doors before Miles entered a code on the keypad welded on the right wall to disarm the alarm. He then flicked a light switch, revealing a long and narrow room with glass windows displaying an ice rink straight ahead._ _

__Tristan raised his eyebrows, staring out at the ice rink. “How’d we get in here?”_ _

__Miles shrugged. “Hollingsworth Construction sponsors the Toronto recreation ice hockey leagues. I get access to the building.”_ _

__Tristan beamed at the glossy ice. “Can we skate?”_ _

__Miles chuckled at the stupid grin spread across Tristan’s face, knowing a similar smile was covering his own. “You bet.”_ _

__He started walking across the room to the far end where there was an empty counter blocking the shelves of skates, Tristan following closely behind. “What size shoe are you?” Miles asked, hoisting himself up onto the counter and swinging his legs over before jumping down on the other side._ _

__“Ten.” Tristan leaned against the counter watching Miles shift through the shelves of skates trying to find the right sizes for the both of them. He finally emerged with two pairs of skates, setting them down on the counter before hopping back over._ _

__The boys sat down on a bench, taking off their shoes and putting on the skates. They finished tying the laces before standing up, Tristan taking Miles’ hand._ _

__Miles led the way, opening up the glass door to enter the rink. They walked on the padded surface past the stadium seating lining the sides, until Miles opened the gate to the ice._ _

__“I haven’t skated in a while,” Tristan commented, watching Miles step onto the ice with no trouble at all._ _

__Skating was second nature to Miles, having grown up playing ice hockey with his brother. Miles turned around, meeting Tristan’s hesitant gaze, and reached out to take his other hand. “It’s okay. I got you.”_ _

__Tristan nodded and stepped onto the ice. He was wobbly at first, holding onto both of Miles’ hands for support, but he soon got the hang of it. Tristan let go of one of Miles’ hands and began skating with him side by side._ _

__“There, you got it,” Miles observed as they picked up the pace, skating a little faster._ _

__Tristan and Miles skated in circles around the ice for a while, hand-in-hand._ _

__“You wanna race?” Tristan asked with a grin. They slowed to a stop against the far wall of the ice rink._ _

__“As long as you don’t mind getting your ass kicked,” Miles teased._ _

__Tristan scoffed, letting go of Miles’ hand. “We’ll see about that. First one to the other side wins.” He turned to face forward, preparing to skate as fast as he can._ _

__“Ready, go!”_ _

__The two boys took off, skating across the rink. Tristan was a lot quicker than Miles had originally thought, as he soon found himself falling behind. It was a close race, however Tristan ended up making it to the opposite side of the ice first._ _

__Tristan turned towards Miles, chuckling in victory as they both caught their breath._ _

__“How’d you get so fast?” Miles asked, skating closer to Tristan._ _

__“I run everyday. Skating is like running,” Tristan responded._ _

__Miles ran his eyes down Tristan’s torso, where his shirt clung in just the right places to reveal his taunt muscles underneath. It was no surprise to Miles that, with a body like Tristan’s he took exercise very seriously. Of course the boy ran everyday._ _

__Tristan caught Miles’ train of eyesight. “Are you checking me out?” he smirked._ _

__Miles returned his gaze to meet Tristan’s, mirroring his smile. “What if I was?” Miles nudged Tristan with his arm, the other boy laughing and loosing his footing on the ice._ _

__Tristan lost balance and began to fall, grabbing onto Miles and pulling him down with him._ _

__“Oh, shit.” Miles toppled over on top of Tristan, both of the boys breaking into laughter as they hit the hard ice._ _

__“Ouch,” Tristan commented, although the smile and laughter coming from him revealed that he wasn’t really hurt._ _

__Miles hovered over Tristan, his two hands pressing into the cool ice next to Tristan’s head. Miles straddled Tristan’s waist as he looked down at the other boy, smile still playing on his lips._ _

__Miles leaned in then, Tristan lifting his head slightly to slot their lips together. The kiss grew heated, both boys pushing against each other, gasping as their tongues connected._ _

__Tristan’s hands wandered around Miles’ lower back to grope at his ass. Miles moaned into Tristan’s mouth, his hips rolling down against Tristan’s hard-on. Tristan grabbed harder at Miles’ ass, pushing him down to gain more friction._ _

__Before Miles knew what he was doing, he disconnected his mouth from Tristan’s, Tristan whining in protest. Miles shifted down Tristan’s body, moving until his face was hovering above Tristan’s crotch._ _

__Tristan watched him with hooded eyes as Miles unzipped his pants, pushing them down a little to release Tristan’s erection. Miles’ mouth watered at the sight of Tristan’s dick, wanting nothing more than to taste him._ _

__Miles held him at the base before leaning in, taking the head into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the top, sucking lightly. Tristan grabbed Miles’ hair, his head falling back against the ice, as a moan escaped his lips._ _

__Miles’ mouth sunk down, keeping his lips tight as he sucked Tristan’s dick, moving his tongue against the underside. Tristan squirmed beneath him, Miles glancing up to find him breathing heavy, lips parted in bliss._ _

__Miles moved his lips up and down Tristan’s dick, bobbing his head as Tristan’s hands grabbed harder at Miles’ hair._ _

__“Fuck, Miles,” Tristan moaned. Miles moved faster, sucking in his cheeks before licking the head and plunging back down. He relaxed his throat, trying to take as much of Tristan’s dick as he could, his hand picking up the shortfall._ _

__Tristan bucked his hips up with a gasp, causing Miles to pull back and sputter. He quickly recovered, pinning Tristan’s hips against the ice with his hands, and taking him into his mouth again._ _

__All of the wonderful gasps and moans Tristan made went right to Miles’ dick, his own bulge straining painfully against his pants._ _

__Miles bobbed his head a couple more times, sucking hard, before Tristan said his name and tugged on his hair in warning. Tristan came with a grunt, shooting his load into the back of Miles’ throat. Miles continued on, milking him through his orgasm, licking and swallowing all of his cum._ _

__Miles moved his mouth off Tristan, shifting back up his body to hover over his face, pressing his hands against the ice to support himself. He looked down at a smiling Tristan with pupils blown wide and an expression of content. Tristan pulled him down by the back of the neck, kissing him with a wet open mouth._ _

__He reached in between their bodies as they made out to undo Miles’ pants. Tristan wrapped a hand around Miles’ erection and began tugging slowly. Miles panted into Tristan’s mouth as he jerked him, kissing him the best he could for the time being. Tristan really knew how to use his hand, the pleasure taking over Miles’ body completely. It didn’t take long before Miles was coming into Tristan’s hand, dropping his body onto Tristan to press their mouths harder together, still gasping._ _

__As Miles came down from his orgasm, he sat up, his hands going numb from being pressed against the ice for so long. He couldn’t help how great he felt from being able to share a moment like that with Tristan._ _

__Tristan sat up, too, both of the boys tucking themselves in and zipping up their pants. “It’s cold,” Tristan commented, wrapping his arms around his body._ _

__Miles smirked. “Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to do that on freezing cold ice.” Tristan breathed a chuckle, smiling over at Miles. “Come on, let’s go.”_ _

__Miles stood up, taking both of Tristan’s hands in his to help the other boy up. They skated to the gate at the edge of the ice before stepping out and exiting the rink through the glass doors._ _

__Miles and Tristan took off their skates and put on their regular shoes, Miles ditching the skates back on the shelf behind the counter._ _

__They headed towards the door leading out, Miles stopping to arm the security alarm before they exited and locked the door behind them._ _

__They both got into Miles’ car, Tristan putting his seat belt on as Miles started the engine and blasted the heater. Miles glanced over at Tristan smiling. “You okay?”_ _

__Tristan turned to study him with a look of disbelief. “You just blew me on an ice rink. I’m more than okay.”_ _

__Miles bit back a laugh, reaching over to run his fingers through Tristan’s hair, smoothing it out. “It was pretty hot.”_ _

__“I’d say.”_ _

__Miles pulled out of the parking lot, driving to Tristan’s apartment building since the other boy had to be at work soon._ _

__“So, do you really want to come to Frankie’s and Hunter’s birthday?” Miles asked, bringing up the conversation from earlier, as he pulled up in front of the apartment building._ _

__“If you want me to,” Tristan responded hesitantly._ _

__Miles looked up after putting the car in park. Of course he wanted him to. “Well, it would be a hell of a lot better with you there.” He flashed a toothy grin. “Plus Frankie and my mom will love to see you again.”_ _

__Tristan leaned over, grabbing the collar of Miles’ shirt to plant a kiss on his lips. “I’d like to come then.”_ _

__“Okay.” Miles gave Tristan one last kiss before the other boy was pulling away, opening up the car door and stepping out._ _

__“I’ll talk to you later,” Tristan spoke._ _

__“Good luck at the theatre. Bye, Tris.”_ _

__Miles watched Tristan retreat into his apartment building before he drove away, deciding that today might have just been the best day of his entire life._ _


	7. A Night to Remember

The weekdays flew by. Miles and Hunter had signed their contracts with CSIS and the project had officially begun. It had been a rather busy week for Hollingsworth Construction, Miles spending most of his time scoping out the jobsite and contacting the architect and laborers to begin work.

Tristan had returned to giving acting lessons during the day, now that the performance nights at the theatre were over. Miles was happy to hear that his boyfriend’s nights were freed up. 

On Tuesday evening, the boys went to a movie and grabbed dinner together. Miles had to work late on Thursday, but stopped by Tristan’s apartment afterwards, which ended in Tristan giving him one amazing blowjob and Miles returning the favor.

Miles was happy, the happiest he has been in a long time. His siblings, Grace, even his coworkers were all beginning to take notice to the new cheerful Miles. Miles knew that his improved attitude was a direct result of Tristan. Just thinking about his boyfriend brought a smile to his face that seemed to become a permanent fixture as the week wore on. 

Hunter and Grace had been busting his balls lately, joking that Miles was becoming whipped, but they were happy for him. Frankie especially was thrilled that Miles was settling into a relationship with Tristan. She couldn’t wait to meet him come her birthday at the Hollingsworth mansion.

Miles awoke on Saturday, a stupid grin finding its way across his face after reading a good morning text from Tristan. He responded to Tristan before texting each of his siblings to wish them a happy birthday.

The smile soon faded from Miles’ face as it dawned on him that he would be seeing his father today. The last thing he wanted to do was spend the evening sitting in the same room as that man. At least Tristan would be there to make it somewhat bearable. 

Miles picked up Tristan around six before heading to the Hollingsworth mansion for dinner. It was a quiet drive, Tristan knowing Miles was nervous about seeing his dad, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his thigh.

When they arrived at Miles’ childhood home, Miles took a deep breath before opening up the mansion door. He hadn’t been there since Easter, avoiding spending time with his father at all costs.

Tristan reached down to entangle their fingers together, staying close by his side as they entered. “It’s weird being here again,” Tristan spoke as he glanced around the foyer. “It doesn’t look like anything has changed since high school.”

Miles snorted. “Tell me about it.” The mansion had never changed much since he was younger, even as each of the Hollingsworth children had moved out. Miles could still remember vividly the horrible memories of his father in each room, like when he shoved him against the wall in this very hallway.

He lead Tristan into the kitchen where his mother was bending down, placing a tray in the oven. “Hey, mom.”

Mrs. Hollingsworth straightened up as she closed the oven, brushing her greying blonde hair out of her face with the back of her hand. “Honey!” her face lit up as she rushed over to give Miles a hug and a kiss on the cheek, Miles immediately wiping the side of his face to remove any remnants of his mother’s pink lipstick.

“Do you remember Tristan? He went to Degrassi.” Miles gestured to the boy standing next to him.

Mrs. Hollingsworth gave Tristan a smile. “Yes, of course.” She reached out to give Tristan a one-armed hug in greeting. “Is this the boyfriend?” she asked turning back towards her son.

Miles could feel his face start to flush. Tristan answered before he had a chance to speak, “Yes, I’m the boyfriend.” Tristan smiled as he wrapped an arm loosely around Miles’ waist. “Thank you for having me.”

“You are welcome any time, Tristan. It’s good to have you.” She turned back towards a pot sitting on the stove to give it a stir. “Now, Miles go wish your brother and sister a happy birthday. They’re in the living room.”

Miles gave Tristan a quick kiss on the temple when his mother’s back was turned before moving to grab two beers out of the fridge. He then took Tristan by the hand and proceeded to the living room.

Hunter was sitting with his feet propped on the couch, watching a hockey game on TV. Frankie was on the opposite side, answering a text on her phone. It was a familiar scene to Miles.

They both looked up as Miles entered the room, Tristan trailing behind him. He set the two beers down on a side table.

“Happy birthday, shitheads! Finally twenty-six, I see.” Miles announced, clapping a hand on Hunter’s shoulder.

Hunter shrugged his hand off. “Look who decided to show up,” he said with a grin, standing up to hug his older brother.

“Shitheads? Really, Miles, it’s my birthday. Be nice,” Frankie chastised before she also stood up and wrapped her arms around Miles.

Miles dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m always nice,” he contradicted, earning a sarcastic snort from his brother.

Frankie turned her gaze to Tristan. “Tristan! It’s so good to see you!” She rushed to give Tristan a hug and let out a squeal. “Miles has been talking non-stop about you for weeks.”

Miles narrowed his eyes. “Have not,” he blushed.

“Oh my god, you look great, Frankie!” Tristan spoke up as they hugged, ignoring the comment regarding Miles. “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you,” she pulled away, retreating to sit back down on the couch.

“Happy birthday, Hunter,” Tristan said turning towards the youngest Hollingsworth son, as Hunter also sat back down.

“Thanks,” Hunter gave him a nod with a smile.

Miles picked up the beers, handing one to Tristan before taking a sip.

The door suddenly opened from the study, Mr. Hollingsworth emerging, looking down at the newspaper in his hand. “Who’s winning the game?” he asked as he approached the back of the couch, glancing up at the television screen.

Hunter snorted, picking up his beer bottle from the coffee table in front of him. “Not Toronto.”

Mr. Hollingsworth shifted his eyes from the TV to the newcomers standing in the room. “Ah, Miles.”

Miles had been trying to avoid eye contact with his dad, but he finally looked up, meeting his father’s gaze. He gave a short nod in response, expressionless.

“And this is?” Mr. Hollingsworth looked between Tristan and Miles expectantly.

“Uh, my boyfriend, Tristan,” Miles responded, chewing on his bottom lip.

Mr. Hollingsworth looked at Tristan for a moment, seeming to recognize both the name and appearance, but didn’t comment on it further. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you.” He abruptly turned to start walking out of the living room. “I’ll go see how your mother is doing on dinner.

When Mr. Hollingsworth was gone, Miles released a sigh, taking a long drink of his beer. “Please tell me we’re going out after this,” he addressed his siblings. There was no way the highlight of their birthday was going to be dinner with their parents.

Hunter chuckled. “We’re out of here as soon as dinner’s over. Right, Franks?”

“Hm?” Frankie looked up, her attention having been occupied by her iPhone again.

“The club after for drinks?” Hunter prompted.

“Yeah,” she shifted her gaze to Miles. “I invited our friends.”

Miles moved to plop down next to his brother on the couch. “Hunter doesn’t have any friends,” Miles teased, nudging Hunter with his arm.

Hunter shoved him back lightly. “Shut up. Your only friend is Grace.”

Miles smirked, looking over at Tristan. “Tristan’s my friend.” He patted the couch next to him, gesturing for Tristan to come sit.

“No, he’s your boyfriend,” Hunter remarked as Tristan sat down next to Miles, placing a hand on his knee.

“I like to think we were friends first,” Tristan spoke up, looking at Miles with a glint in his eyes.

“Oh, please. You guys have always been more than friends, even in high school,” Frankie said, causing Tristan to laugh, his cheeks turning pink.

“Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. Hollingsworth announced from the dining room, Hunter and Frankie jumping up to go eat.

Miles kept his eyes glued to Tristan’s. He brought his hand up to brush against the side of Tristan’s face.

Miles lowered his voice as his siblings left the room. “Sorry about Frankie and Hunter. They can be a little—“

Tristan cut him off. “They’re fine, Miles. Don’t worry about me.” He leaned in to give Miles a soft kiss, running his hand up Miles’ arm. “Are you okay? You seem tense.” Tristan’s eyebrows furrowed together worriedly.

“I’m fine. I’ll be better once we’re out of this house.” Miles feigned a smile, moving in to give Tristan another peck on the lips, before standing up. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

The boys entered the dining room where six place settings were set around the long ivory table. Mr. Hollingsworth was at the head of the table, Frankie and Hunter sitting next to each other, as Mrs. Hollingsworth placed food on the table. Miles and Tristan both sat down next to each other at the table opposing his siblings.

When Mrs. Hollingsworth sat down, everyone dished out plates of food and began eating.

“So, how’s the company doing?” Mr. Hollingsworth asked after swallowing a mouthful of chicken.

Hunter glanced across the table at his brother, Miles dropping his eyes to his food in front of him. “It’s good. We just started our job with CSIS this week,” Hunter responded.

“That’s wonderful. My boys must be hard at work,” their mother voiced.

“I assume Miles is keeping everything in line?” Mr. Hollingsworth addressed his eldest son.

Miles swallowed hard, his throat feeling much tighter. The one thing he loved about Hollingsworth Construction was that his father had no part in it. Miles and Hunter had built their company with no help from their dad, and Miles hated when his father questioned him on it.

Tristan’s hand found Miles’ under the table, causing Miles to look up from his plate. He rubbed the pad of his thumb reassuringly against Miles’ forefinger. 

“Yeah, everything’s good,” Miles answered, not wanting to get into it with his father.

Mr. Hollingsworth nodded before changing the subject to ask Frankie how her job was going.

The rest of dinner went smoothly, Miles and Tristan remaining quiet most of the time since the focus was on the twins. After dinner they ate birthday cake and the twins opened the presents their parents and Miles had got for them.

It was around nine when they finally headed out, to Miles’ relief. Frankie, Hunter, and Miles said goodbye to their parents. Miles hugged his mother goodbye but managed to stay out of his father’s reach. Tristan thanked the Hollingsworth’s for having him, before they exited the mansion.

“We’ll meet you at the club?” Miles asked his siblings as he unlocked his car parked in the cobblestone driveway.

“Yeah, see you there,” Frankie gave a wave before she hopped into the passenger seat of Hunter’s Audi and they drove away.

Miles got into his car beside Tristan, starting the engine. “You sure you want to go to the bar? We can always go back to my place instead,” Miles grinned looking over at Tristan, leaning slightly closer to the other boy.

“Tempting,” Tristan laughed. “I might have to take you up on that offer later.” He reached forward to play with the collar of Miles’ shirt. “It’s their birthday. We should go.”

Miles nodded in resignation. He closed the space between him and Tristan to capture Tristan’s lips with his own for a moment, before driving downtown to the club.

Miles and Tristan entered the club hand in hand, after Miles paid the cover charge, and headed straight to the bar where he noticed Hunter and Frankie standing amongst a group of people.

Miles was surprised to find so many of his sibling’s friends, along with Hunter’s friends from the company. He hadn’t realized how many people Frankie had actually invited. She always overdid herself when it came to parties.

“No Grace?” Miles asked the twins as he approached them, scanning the group.

Hunter shook his head. “She couldn’t make it. Sent me some pretty sick gaming software for my birthday, though.” Hunter turned away from Miles, grabbing a shot from one of the company’s executives at the bar.

“Miles, you remember Brad, right?” Frankie gestured to the blonde boy standing next to her, that Miles recognized as the guy she’s been dating on and off for the past couple of months. He didn’t really like Brad, but then again would he ever like any guy his little sister dated.

“Sup,” Miles offered with a nod of his head before accepting the drink Hunter shoved at him.

“And this is my brother’s new boyfriend, Tristan,” Frankie introduced to Brad.

“Hey,” Tristan greeted. 

Miles pulled on Tristan’s hand, walking closer to the bar, having had enough of talking to Frankie’s boy toy. Hunter was downing another shot, Miles realizing his brother was going to be obliterated by the end of the night. He was such a lightweight.

Miles leaned against the bar, taking a sip of the mixed drink Hunter had handed him. Whatever it was, it was definitely not Miles’ drink of choice. He set the cup down, sliding it in front of Tristan standing next to him.

“Not like you to turn down a drink,” Tristan commented, picking up the glass to take a sip.

“Maybe I’m trying to stay sober tonight.” Miles raised his eyebrows at the other boy.

“Whatever, weirdo,” Tristan smiled, playing with Miles’ fingers in his hand. Miles raked his eyes down Tristan’s body, Tristan taking notice to the casual eye fuck. He dropped Miles’ hand as the other boy returned his gaze to his eyes. “So you wanna dance with me?”

Miles smirked at the quirk of Tristan’s eyebrow. He didn’t answer, instead grabbing Tristan’s hand again and pushing away from the bar.

They headed to the dance floor, leaving Hunter and Frankie with their friends behind them.

There was no hesitation, unlike the last time the two of them had danced together at the club. Miles pulled Tristan’s body against his, the other boy wrapping his arms around his neck. They moved their bodies together along to the pulsing music, Miles’ hands slowly moving lower and lower against Tristan’s back.

Miles dipped his head down to kiss Tristan’s neck, sucking hard on the flesh. He took the skin between his teeth before laying open mouthed kisses along the side of his neck.

Tristan’s breath hitched as Miles’ mouth left his skin, moving back up to crash their lips together. Tristan’s hands traveled to cup the sides of Miles’ face as he opened his mouth, pushing his tongue out to entangle with Miles’.

The boys pushed against each other, trying to get as close to each other as possible, as they continued to make out. They both grew inevitably hard as they ground together on the dance floor.

Tristan pulled back with a gasp, rushing to catch his breath. “Take me home,” Tristan told Miles as they locked their eyes together.

Miles looked at him, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t respond, still too overwhelmed by their heated kissing.

Tristan laughed at the dumbfounded expression on the other boys face, dragging Miles back into another kiss, connecting their lips together. Miles kissed back, trying to comprehend what was happening, as Tristan pulled back away, biting lightly on Miles’ lower lip as he did so.

Miles sprung into action, leading Tristan by the waist over to the twins by the bar. There was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to take Tristan back to his apartment.

They approached Frankie, who was talking and drinking with a group of girl friends. “We’re gonna head out. Happy birthday, Franks,” Miles interrupted.

“What? Already? It’s only ten.” Frankie looked between Miles and Tristan confused, before a huge smile spread across her face. “Alright, I’ll let you two go. Tristan, I better be seeing you again.”

Tristan laughed. “Of course. Happy birthday, Frankie.”

Miles leaned forward to hug his little sister, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Where’s your other half?”

Frankie jerked her chin to the left of the bar where a couple girls were surrounding Hunter, who seemed to be downing shot after shot.

Miles rolled his eyes at the scene of his brother. “Make sure he gets home safe?” he asked Frankie.

“Definitely. You two have fun,” she winked at Miles before he headed towards Hunter, Tristan in tow.

Miles placed a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “I’m gonna get going, lil bro.” Hunter turned towards him, not exactly meeting his gaze with glassy eyes. “Happy birthday.”

Hunter gave him a hug. “You’re missing all the fun. What are you, sober?”

Miles chuckled, ruffling his hand through Hunter’s hair as he eyed the girls surrounding him. “Alright, drunkie, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Have fun.”

Miles turned back around, facing his boyfriend. “Ready?”

Tristan smiled at the other boy, nodding.

Miles returned the smile, taking his hand and heading out of the club to his BMW parked on the street. They both got in, Miles starting the car, and began the short drive to Miles’ apartment.

As Miles drove, Tristan’s hand wandered up his thigh, rubbing closer and closer between his legs to his dick. Miles’ breath caught in his throat as Tristan squeezed the upper inside of his thigh lightly. Tristan chuckled.

“Will you cut it out?” Miles eyed Tristan sternly, biting back a smile.

“Ever been blown while you’re driving?” Tristan asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he continued to move his hand against Miles’ thigh.

Miles’ eyes widened as he swallowed loudly, his dick throbbing against his pants. Miles tried to shake the image of Tristan blowing him out of his mind as he kept his eyes glued to the road. He cleared his throat. “I’m pretty sure that’s dangerous to pretty much every other driver on this street.”

Tristan laughed, pulling his hand back from Miles’ leg.

They arrived at Miles’ apartment, Miles parking the car before they both got out and headed inside. Miles held the glass door to the building open for Tristan, before following the other boy in.

“Good evening, Mr. Hollingsworth,” Frank, the security guard behind the front desk greeted them. “And Mr…” he trailed off.

“Milligan,” Miles supplied.

“Mr. Milligan,” Frank repeated. “Have a good evening.”

“You, too, Frank.” Miles spoke as he clicked the button to the elevator, stepping in as it opened. The elevator doors closed behind the two boys and Miles pressed the button to the 43rd floor.

Miles decided to take advantage of the fact that they were the only two in the elevator. He backed Tristan up against the wall, framing his face by pressing the palms of his hands into the steel wall of the elevator behind him. Miles leaned forward, releasing a small sigh as his lips brushed against Tristan’s. Tristan pushed forward eagerly, moving his lips to fit against Miles’.

Just as Tristan opened his mouth to slip his tongue against Miles’ lips, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. The boys reluctantly separated, hurrying out of the elevator to Miles’ apartment.

Miles fished his keys out of his pocket, opening the door. They both walked in, Miles shutting and locking the door behind them.

He hopped up the two steps into his kitchen, Tristan following behind him. Miles turned to face the other boy, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Want something to drink?”

Tristan smiled, moving closer to Miles. He didn’t answer the other boy instead tilting forward to place kisses on Miles mouth, along his jaw, up to his ear. His mouth hovered next to Miles’ ear, his breath tickling his skin as he whispered, “I want you to fuck me.”

Miles broke into a grin, those being the words he’d been waiting to hear. His heart was pounding in his head as he grabbed on to Tristan’s waist, turning both of them around, before lifting Tristan to sit on the counter.

Tristan released a gasp as he landed on the countertop, Miles’ movements taking him by surprise. He tangled his legs around Miles, pulling him closer, as the other boy settled between his legs.

Miles reached up, pulling Tristan’s head down to attach their lips together. Tristan opened his mouth, his tongue meeting Miles’, wet and heavy. 

Tristan’s hands found their way up the back of Miles’ shirt, feeling the boy’s smooth skin beneath him. He rocked forward, barely on the counter anymore, Miles moving his hands quickly to Tristan’s ass to support his weight.

“Fuck, Tris,” Miles broke the kiss, gasping for air, his swelling cock pressing uncomfortably against his pants.

Tristan unhooked his legs from around Miles, dropping his feet to the floor, still keeping the other boy close. He looked at Miles, pupils blown, nothing but lust and desire filling his expression.

“Bedroom,” Miles said, taking Tristan’s hand and pulling him through the short hallway leading out of the kitchen.

Miles opened the door to his bedroom, closing it behind them, as Tristan took in the room. It was decently sized with a queen-sized bed against the center of the wall with white sheets and a warm grey headboard and comforter. A heavy white blind covered the wide windows along the far wall. There were two open doors, one leading to the bathroom and the other a walk-in closet. Tristan sat on the edge of the bed facing Miles, the therapeutic mattress forming to his body beneath him. 

Tristan watched Miles approach him, grabbing onto his waistband when he was in reaching distance. They kept their gaze locked together as Tristan began undoing Miles’ pants, dropping them down to his ankles.

Miles stepped out of them, kicking them quickly to the side. Tristan stood back up, running his hand from Miles’ waist up his torso, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt on the way.

Miles helped undo the top buttons before he was sliding his shirt off, Tristan’s cool hands immediately feeling up and down Miles’ abs. “You’re so hot, Miles.”

Miles chuckled, wasting no time as he pulled Tristan’s own shirt over his head. He then moved on to his pants, pushing both his dark jeans and boxers down in one swift motion.

Tristan kissed Miles’s lips quickly before moving down to his neck, beginning to kiss and suck around his throat and collarbone.

Miles tilted his head back, giving Tristan more room, releasing a low moan from the sensation of Tristan’s tongue against his neck. He began nudging his own boxers off, grabbing onto Tristan’s ass after doing so.

Tristan moved back up, attaching his lips to Miles’ as Miles pushed forward, both of them falling backwards onto the bed. They both let out breathy laughs against each other’s mouths as they scrambled to reposition themselves on the bed, Miles on top of Tristan.

Miles leaned back in to kiss Tristan, moving his hips up and down slightly to slide their erections together.

“Fuck, Miles,” Tristan gasped between a kiss.

Miles disconnected his mouth from Tristan’s momentarily to open the drawer to his nightstand. He took out a tube of lube and a condom, dropping the condom onto the bed next to them.

Miles popped the cap to the lube, slicking up his fingers. He moved his hand down to Tristan’s ass, circling his finger around his hole.

Miles watched Tristan’s face as he pushed his finger into him, Tristan gasping as he quirked his finger. He began moving his finger slowly in and out, before adding a second.

Miles scissored his fingers, stretching Tristan out, loving all the breathy noises the other boy was making. He grazed his prostate, Tristan releasing a low moan, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Gonna fuck you real good, Tris.” Miles pulled his fingers out, sitting up to open the condom and roll it onto his dick as Tristan hummed in response. He stroked himself a couple times with lube before leaning back down, slotting his lips with Tristan’s.

Tristan licked into his mouth, hitching his legs up around Miles’ back. Miles lined himself up against Tristan’s ass, lifting his mouth off of Tristan’s as he pushed in.

“Fuck,” Miles sighed as Tristan took him, bottoming out. Miles peered down at Tristan as he adjusted his position, waiting for Miles to start moving. “You good?”

“Fuck, yes,” Tristan breathed out before Miles was pulling out and thrusting back in with a grunt.

Tristan dragged his nails across Miles’ back as Miles continued slamming into him slowly. Miles buried his head into the crook of Tristan’s neck, sucking and mouthing at his skin.

Tristan began rocking up, meeting Miles halfway with every thrust, quickening the pace. “Tris, so fucking good,” Miles mumbled into his neck before lifting his head to kiss Tristan’s lips.

Tristan broke away from Miles’ mouth, releasing a long moan as Miles hit his prostate. Miles groaned, aiming for that spot now with each thrust into Tristan.

“Mm, fuck, I’m close,” Miles spoke before Tristan pulled him back down to kiss him. Miles reached between them, grabbing onto Tristan’s dick to begin jerking him.

It only took a couple more thrusts before Tristan came with a low whine, spilling into Miles’ hand. Miles continued touching him through his orgasm as he slammed into him, coming a moment later with a grunt. Tristan unhooked his legs from around Miles, allowing them to drop to the mattress, releasing a satisfied sigh.

Miles fell on top of Tristan as he panted, slowly coming down from his own orgasm. He caught his breath before rolling off of Tristan, pulling out. He took off the condom, tying it off and tossed it in the wastebasket beside his bed.

Tristan remained lying on his back as Miles returned, placing a sloppy wet kiss on his lips. Tristan kissed him back passionately, gripping onto the back of his hair.

Once the kiss ended, Miles dropped down, lying next to Tristan with his head on his chest. Tristan ran a soothing hand through Miles’ hair, across his damp forehead.

The boys laid together quietly for a moment, both rejuvenating from the heated sex. “I’ve been dreaming about that since high school,” Tristan mused, breaking the silence, as he continued stroking Miles’ hair.

Miles opened his eyes to the sound of Tristan’s voice, having been resting them. He chuckled lightly, draping his arm across the other boy’s pale chest to trail across his side. “Was it better than you imagined?”

Miles recalled the times he had thought about having sex with Tristan, especially more recently. The real thing was so much better than what he envisioned. Miles was sure he’d never felt this good with another person.

“Most definitely. The two can’t even compare,” Tristan spoke softly. “Can I sleep here?”

Miles’ eyebrows strewn together, the question taking him off guard. He clung tighter to Tristan, peering up at his boyfriend. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Tristan smiled. “Then I’m not going anywhere.” He pressed a kiss to Miles’ forehead, Miles closing his eyes and relaxing against Tristan’s chest.

Miles drifted to sleep in the warm arms of his boyfriend to the sound of Tristan’s chest rising and falling with each breath, the stroke of Tristan’s hand through his hair lulling him to sleep.


	8. The Morning After

BANG BANG BANG BANG

Miles shifted in his sleep, screwing his eyes shut as he pulled the comforter over his head and snuggled closer to the warm body beside him, ignoring the loud noise.

BANG BANG BANG

“What the fuck?” Miles muttered, reluctantly opening his eyes to peer at the soundly sleeping boy curled against him. Tristan’s arm was wrapped securely around his body, the boy’s chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

BANG BANG BANG BANG

Miles glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand, reading 8:09. Who the fuck was banging on his door this early in the morning? Miles let out an aggravated sigh as he carefully untangled himself from Tristan’s arms, not wanting to wake the other boy as he sat up. Tristan must be a heavy sleeper to be able to sleep through the loud pounding, however he did mumble something incoherently as Miles left his arms.

Miles pulled on his discarded plaid boxers that were lying on the floor from the night before. He opened the door to his bedroom, closing it quietly behind him.

BANG BANG BANG

“Alright! I’m coming!” Miles jumped down the stairs leading out of the kitchen and went to the door. He looked into the peephole before sighing and ripping the door open.

“There better be a good fucking reason why you’re banging on my door this early on a Sunday morning,” Miles told the person on the other side.

Grace shoved passed him unfazed, heading towards the breakfast bar at the kitchen. “Your website’s been hacked.” She walked up the two steps, setting her MacBook down on the counter and slid onto the stool.

Miles shut the door, following Grace into the kitchen to stand behind her as she opened her laptop. “How’s that even possible?” Miles asked in disbelief looking at the various layers of code Grace began editing.

“The firewall was breached. I need the company’s security codes to shut it down.” Grace typed rapidly on the keyboard, Miles not able to follow any of the complex coding.

“What? Shut it down? Can’t you just restore it?”

Grace sighed, opening up a new tab to type in the company’s url. “This is what the HCC website looks like now.” Miles looked at the computer screen, all the text and images that used to occupy the homepage deleted. “It’s basically destroyed and the hacking software is still altering. It’s better if I take the website down now and I’ll put up a redirection to the HCC link explaining the company’s changing their site image.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Miles agreed. 

“Usually am,” Grace replied cockily. “The security code?” Miles recited the passwords to Grace as she typed them into the computer before shutting the company’s website down.

When HCC first opened, Grace had agreed to help build a website for the company. Hunter could have done it, but graphic and web design were never his strong suit when it came to computers. Grace took over the website over the last years, expanding and editing it as the company grew. Miles was grateful for his best friend’s help, especially during a hacking crisis like this.

“We’re gonna have to design a new site. Have you told Hunter?” Miles ran a hand through his messy hair, smoothing it out, before crossing his arms across his bare chest. He was barely awake, not feeling like dealing with work stuff on a Sunday.

Grace snorted. “Already called him, he’s on his way over. That boy was not happy to hear my voice this early in the morning. Must have quite the hangover from last night’s party.”

Miles chuckled, recalling leaving his brother wasted at the bar with a couple girls. “Where were you last night?” Miles remembered his best friend had been absent from his sibling’s party, which was unlike her.

Before Grace could respond, they were interrupted by the pad of bare feet on the hardwood floor. Tristan emerged from the hallway, dressed similar to Miles in just a pair of boxers. He looked tired, rubbing at his eyes.

“Didn’t realize you had company,” Grace spoke with a slight hint of humor in her tone, as she dropped her eyes from Tristan back to her MacBook.

“I’m sorry, did we wake you?” Miles addressed Tristan, smiling at the boy. He noted that Tristan looked especially cute as he stifled a yawn.

Tristan shook his head, “It’s okay.” He looked between Grace and Miles, confusion floundering his expression. Tristan took in the girl’s dark hair framing her face with the same blue streaks from high school. “Grace Cardinal?” he asked incredulously.

Grace looked back up, seeing the surprise in Tristan’s expression. She narrowed her eyes at Miles. “You didn’t tell him about me?” she accused.

Miles’ mouth dropped open slightly as he failed to find words. “Well—I—He knows I have a friend named Grace,” Miles stuttered, looking back over at Tristan as he realized he failed to mention that his best friend Grace was the very same Grace from Degrassi.

Tristan laughed. “How’d that happen?”

“We went to Toronto U together, became close,” Miles replied with a shrug.

“How come I’ve heard all about Tristan but you haven’t told him anything about me?” Grace teased, shoving her best friend lightly. “You dick.”

There was a knock at the door then. “That’s Hunter,” Grace supplied as Miles moved to answer the door.

Hunter dragged himself inside looking like complete shit. “Don’t you look nice,” Miles snickered sarcastically watching Hunter shuffle to the kitchen, the hoodie of his sweatshirt pulled over his head with dark brown spikes of hair peaking out.

Hunter collapsed onto the stool next to Grace, leaning his forehead on the cool marble countertop. “Why’s it so fucking bright in here? Close the blinds.”

“Shouldn’t have drank so much last night,” Miles responded as he approached Tristan, taking him by the hand and walking further into the kitchen so they were standing across the counter from Grace and Hunter.

Hunter looked up, finally noticing Tristan in the room. He observed them both clad in just their boxers. “What’d you guys have a sleepover?” Hunter raised his eyebrows, amused.

Miles rolled his eyes ignoring his brother’s stupid question. “Nice hickey,” Hunter commented with a smirk.

Miles subconsciously brought his hand to his neck where he knew the bruise would be from Tristan kissing him last night. His face flushed and Grace burst into laughter.

“Alright, very funny,” Miles said dryly. “Do you two have everything under control if I go put some pants on?”

Grace spoke through more giggles. “Yes, I’m going to open a new webpage so we can reconstruct the layout.”

Hunter lifted his head to glance at the laptop screen before collapsing back onto the countertop. “Can I have some water?”

Miles chuckled at his brother’s obvious distress. He crossed the kitchen to open the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water before setting it next to Hunter. “Come on, Tris.”

Miles headed through the hallway down to his bedroom, Tristan following behind him. Once inside, Miles walked into his closet, flicking the light switch on his way.

He crossed the long, but narrow closet to his massive dresser, crouching down to rummage through the clothes in the bottom drawer. Tristan leaned in the doorway, admiring the rows of suit jackets and dress shirts hanging along the walls.

Miles pulled out a couple pairs of sweatpants, placing them on the floor before closing the drawer and opening another one. “Wanna take a shower with me?” Miles glanced over his shoulder with a smirk, meeting Tristan’s warm smile.

Tristan released a small sigh. “I should probably get going.”

Miles turned back to the dresser, taking out two t-shirts before shutting the drawer and standing up. He picked up the clean clothes and walked towards Tristan. “You don’t have to.”

When Miles was close enough, Tristan leaned in to press a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back and running a hand down his arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind on Miles’ skin.

Miles moved in to peck the corner of Tristan’s mouth once more. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know Grace was going to show up. Someone hacked into the company’s server and we have to set up a new website before the office opens tomorrow,” he rushed to explain why they were interrupted.

“You can stay and hang out though, if you want. I’m not much help with the computer programming anyway.” Miles smiled goofily, taking Tristan’s hand. “I’ll make breakfast.”

Tristan mirrored his smile, playing with his fingers lightly. “How bout that shower first?”

Miles nodded before he pulled Tristan out of the closet, flipping the light switch off on the way. They entered the bathroom adjacent to the closet, Miles shutting the door behind them and tossed the spare clothes onto the marble-topped vanity.

Miles slid the glass door to the spacious shower open, turning on the water. They both waited for the water to warm up, which only took a moment, before dropping their boxers and stepping in together.

The heated water falling from the stainless steel showerhead was like a godsend. Miles tipped his head back, letting the water soak his hair and run down his body, finally fully waking him up. Tristan watched from outside of the shower fall, eyeing the water droplets trickling down Miles’ abdomen.

Miles noticed his stare, laughing lightly. “Get over here.” He pulled Tristan under the stream of water, kissing the other boy passionately.

Tristan gripped Miles’ hips as they kissed, sucking on his bottom lip underneath the flowing water of the shower. Miles moved his hands around Tristan’s body, reaching down to cup his ass.

Tristan pulled back from Miles slightly, keeping his lips close. “Usually I’d be all for fooling around in the shower,” Miles cut him off with another wet kiss before disconnecting their mouths. “But Grace and your brother are in the other room,” Tristan finished.

Miles laughed, taking a step back from the other boy. “What, you think they’d hear us?” He turned to grab body wash, squirting some in his hands and began lathering up his chest and shoulders.

“Well, you’re not exactly quiet from what I learned last night,” Tristan teased.

“Either are you,” Miles responded, remembering how he relished every noise Tristan made as he was buried deep inside him. “Turn around.”

He turned so Miles could run his soapy hands up and down Tristan’s back, kneading the muscles along his shoulder blades. Tristan released a low sigh as Miles massaged a sensitive spot along his lower neck, melting against Miles’ hands. Miles scrubbed his hands down Tristan’s arms, lathering the boy’s biceps.

Tristan rotated in Miles’ arms to face him, reaching up to tangle his hands into Miles’ wet hair. Miles’ hands stilled against Tristan’s body as Tristan pulled him in for a kiss.

The steady pressure of the steaming water rinsed the soap off of their bodies as the boys’ tongues collided through their open mouths, wet and heavy. Miles lost himself to the sweet taste of Tristan’s mouth, kissing him senseless. 

Tristan backed Miles up until he hit the tile wall of the shower. He continued to kiss him deeply until they both broke away breathless.

They finished washing up before Miles shut off the water and they stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a clean white towel off the rack, passing it to Tristan and picked up another one for himself.

The two of them dried off, Miles running the towel over his head to dry his hair, leaving it sticking up in awkward places. Tristan snickered when he caught sight of Miles’ hair, moving in to brush his hands through the dark locks, smoothing it out.

Miles handed Tristan the clean clothes that he brought in, both of them changing into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Miles smiled at the sight of Tristan all comfy in his clothes.

“Thank you,” Tristan said, brushing his lips against Miles’ before opening the bathroom door. They headed back out to the kitchen.

Grace was still typing away on her laptop, Hunter watching intently, his head propped up by his elbow.

“I’m making breakfast,” Miles announced as he entered the kitchen, moving to turn on the Keurig. Tristan sauntered up to the counter across from Grace and Hunter, like before.

“That’ll be interesting,” Grace remarked.

“Showering together? You guys really can’t keep apart.” Hunter joked, taking in Tristan’s damp hair and fresh clothes.

“Conserving water,” Miles cut in as he began brewing coffee.

Grace snorted, rolling her eyes. “Because you’ve always been so concerned with saving the environment.” The sarcasm was thick in her tone.

Tristan chuckled as Miles placed a cup of coffee in front of him, ignoring Grace’s cynicism. “How do you like your coffee?” Miles asked, squeezing Tristan’s arm lightly.

“Uh— with milk?” 

Miles nodded in response moving to grab milk out of the fridge. He handed it to Tristan before returning to the Keurig to make a cup for him and his brother. Grace didn’t drink coffee; Miles knew she preferred getting her caffeine fix from a Red Bull.

Miles returned to the breakfast bar once the coffee was brewed, setting his own coffee mug down and handing one to Hunter. Tristan slid the milk over to him, but Miles shook his head, passing it up to his brother.

“He likes his coffee black, like his soul,” Grace commented, causing Hunter to sputter while taking a sip of his coffee and Tristan laughed lightly.

“Why are you busting my balls today?” Miles eyed Grace while taking a drink from his coffee cup, not amused.

“Well, you make it so easy.” Grace’s smile was unwavering.

Miles shook his head, moving back towards the refrigerator. He opened it and began rummaging through.

“What’s for breakfast, Miles? Poptarts? Lucky Charms?” Hunter asked mockingly, knowing those were his brother’s usual go-to meals. Miles flipped him off over his shoulder and pulled out a carton of eggs.

“Has Miles cooked for you, yet, Tristan?” Grace asked curiously.

“No, I didn’t know he could cook,” Tristan responded, shifting sideways so he could watch Miles pull a frying pan out of a cabinet and place it on the electric stovetop.

Grace chortled, “He can’t.”

Miles opened a different cabinet to take out a mixing bowl and began cracking eggs into the bowl. He then carried the bowl over to the breakfast bar to grab the milk from his brother.

Hunter sat up straighter in his chair to glance at the cracked eggs in the bowl. “There’s eggshells in it,” he criticized.

Miles ducked his head to take a closer look inside the bowl before muttering, “Fuck.” Sure enough there was bits of white eggshell floating in the raw eggs.

Tristan burst into laughter as he watched Miles begin picking the eggshells out with a fork. 

Miles glanced over at Tristan with a smile; glad he was amusing his boyfriend. “What, you don’t like your eggs crunchy?” he teased.

Tristan shook his head, still laughing. “No, not really.”

Once the eggshells were removed, Miles poured some milk into the bowl and stirred before heading back towards the stove.

“Don’t set the apartment on fire,” Grace said before turning back towards her laptop.

Tristan trailed Miles to the stove watching him continue to beat the eggs. “Your really that bad of a cook?” he questioned with raised eyebrows.

“She’s just joking,” Miles defended himself. He’d only started a fire one time and it had been an honest mistake. How was he supposed to know you couldn’t put aluminum foil in a microwave?

“No, I’m not,” Grace called, not looking up from her computer, causing Tristan to chuckle.

Miles turned on the stove before pouring the eggs into the pan. While the eggs were cooking, he started plopping slices of Wonder bread into the toaster.

Tristan watched the eggs sizzling in the pan. “Miles, the eggs are going to burn,” he informed. Miles opened a drawer, pulling out a spatula and handed it to him with a smile.

Tristan took the spatula and began turning the eggs, taking control of the cooking by pulling them across the pan. Miles walked up behind Tristan, leaning his chin on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around Tristan’s waist, watching the boy cook scrambled eggs.

“Taking notes?” Tristan teased, smiling as Miles placed a soft kiss against the side of his neck.

“Hm,” Miles mumbled, continuing to kiss softly at Tristan’s neck. Tristan leaned back against Miles, turning his head to the side to kiss Miles’ lips once, before shutting off the heat of the stove.

Miles disconnected himself from Tristan to grab plates and began dishing out food. The four of them ate at the breakfast bar, Grace closing her laptop for the time being to shovel down some food.

“So does Grace work for the company?” Tristan asked after swallowing a mouthful of eggs.

“She wishes,” Miles snorted.

Grace rolled her eyes. “I just help out with the website and virtual security. These two would be helpless without me.”

“Not true,” Hunter spoke up before taking a bite of toast. “I help program the website.”

“You’re too hung over to be much help today,” Grace remarked as she pushed her plate of half-eaten eggs to the side and reopened her laptop.

Miles dropped his empty plate in the sink, rounding the counter to look at the computer screen. “How’s it coming?”

Grace scrolled through the new website, showing Miles the layout. “Should be done in a couple hours. I’m mostly just copying the design and text from before the hacking. I’ll create a splash page for the CSIS project.”

“Great, looks good,” Miles complemented, inching towards the living room. “So you don’t need my help?”

Grace sighed. “Nope. It’s not like you’re the president of the company or anything,” she muttered sarcastically under her breath.

“Co-president,” Hunter corrected.

Miles waved for Tristan to follow him as he stepped down the stairs into the living room. “Hey, I said I would cut you a check if you want,” he called over his shoulder.

“I’ll consider it,” Grace uttered, even though Miles knew she would never accept his money. His best friend had made a wealth of her own in the animation industry.

Miles collapsed on the leather couch, turning on the TV as Tristan came to sit beside him. He situated himself so he was leaning against Tristan’s side, Tristan wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close. Miles flipped through the channels before settling on a showing of X-Men.

Tristan trailed his fingers up and down Miles’ arm as they watched the movie, before dropping a kiss on his temple. “I have to head to the theatre at noon.”

“Since when do you work on Sundays?” Miles asked, not wanting the other boy to leave.

“Since I have to give a private acting lesson.”

Miles broke his eyes from the television to glance at Tristan, smiling with an eyebrow raised. “Should I be jealous?”

Tristan chuckled, nudging him lightly. “No, it’s with a girl.”

Miles leaned in to give his boyfriend a quick kiss. “I can give you a ride back to your apartment.” He turned back towards the movie.

“No, it’s okay. I can take the subway,” Tristan insisted

“What? Tris, don’t be ridiculous—”

Tristan cut him off. “Miles, the subway’s a block down the road from your apartment. Seriously, it’s no big deal. You can stay and help Grace and Hunter.”

“If you say so,” Miles gave in, reaching his hand to interlock his fingers with Tristan’s.

They watched the rest of the movie, standing up as the ending credits rolled. “I’ll walk you to the elevator,” Miles told the other boy, shifting his eyes towards Grace and his brother at the counter, indicating he wanted some alone time.

Tristan said goodbye to Grace and Hunter before they both walked out of the apartment, heading down the hallway towards the elevator.

The boys came to a stop when they reached the elevator, Tristan clicking the button before turning to face his boyfriend. “I’ll call you later,” Tristan told him, wrapping his arms around Miles’ torso and stepping closer.

Miles nodded, pulling Tristan in to connect their lips, kissing him slowly.

When the kiss came to an end, Miles held on to Tristan, hugging him, before they both broke apart as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Tristan entered the elevator.

As the doors began to close, Miles realized he was missing something. He put his hands out, suddenly stopping the elevator doors halfway as they were closing. “Hey, Tris, last night was one of the best nights of my life,” Miles declared.

Tristan broke into a grin, stepping forward to cup Miles’ face with his hands. “Mine, too.” He pressed forward to brush his lips against Miles’, kissing him quickly before stepping back as Miles let the elevator doors close. They locked eyes until the metal doors blocked their view and they could no longer see each other.

Miles walked back to his apartment, a stupid smile playing across his face as he joined Grace and Hunter in the kitchen.

“Almost done,” Grace acknowledged, applying some finishing touches on the new HCC website. “Miles, can you preview it before it goes live?” She glanced over her shoulder at Miles, pausing when she caught sight of the grin across his face. “Why so smiley?”

Miles’ eyes widened as he ran a hand over his mouth, dropping his smile. “What? I’m not,” he stammered.

“He’s in love,” Hunter joked.

“Am not,” Miles shot back, freezing at the words. He knew he was well on his way to falling in love with Tristan, but he wasn’t about to admit that to them. 

Grace and Hunter seemed to see right through his façade, both laughing at his response. “You guys didn’t fuck in the elevator, did you?” Hunter questioned.

“No, we didn’t,” Miles shook his head, reaching forward to push Grace’s hands out of the way and scroll through the website on her computer.

After reviewing the webpage, Miles gave Grace the go ahead to make the link live. Hunter gathered himself, sliding out of the stool and heading towards the door. “I’m going home to sleep. I’ll talk to you guys later.”

Miles chuckled, saying goodbye to his brother as Grace closed her laptop. He moved into the kitchen to the sink and began rinsing off the dirty dishes from breakfast and placing them in the dishwasher. 

Once Hunter was out the door, Grace spoke up, turning in her stool to face her best friend. “Miles, I gotta talk to you about something.”

Miles piled the last of the dishes into the dishwasher before closing it. He shifted to stand in front of Grace, his eyebrows strewing together. “What’s up? Is everything okay?” He repeated his question from earlier that she never got around to answering. “Where were you last night?”

Grace shook her head, cutting off the worry floundering Miles’ expression. “Everything’s fine. I just had to finish up some work stuff last night that I’m behind on. You know how it gets.” Her voice trailed off before coming back stronger. “This isn’t about me.”

Miles’ eyebrows were still pulled together in confusion. “Then what do you need to talk to me about?”

Grace released a small sigh. “Look, Hunter’s worried about you.”

“What? Why?”

She kept her gaze cautious before responding. “He’s noticed you’ve slipped up on a couple things in the office. You’ve had a lot on your plate with the CSIS project and Hunter just thinks maybe you’re distracted.”

“So you guys are talking behind my back now?” Miles asked in disbelief, his eyebrows raised.

“No, of course not. He was just venting about the company when you were in the shower.”

“What is there to vent about? I know I messed up on a couple calculations for the project this week, but I don’t understand why he’s making a big deal out of it. We caught my mistakes before the paperwork was submitted to the owner.” Miles ran a frustrated hand over his face.

“Miles, you have always been on top of your game with the company. Hunter is just concerned because you’ve been spending a lot of time with Tristan and now your work is awry.”

Miles’ eyes shot up to meet Grace’s at the realization of what this conversation was really about. “Are you kidding me? You think Tristan is distracting me?” He turned away, now beyond annoyed as Grace failed to respond. “I don’t get it. Last year I got dumped for being too invested in the company, and now, Hunter is giving me shit for putting my relationship first sometimes. I can’t fucking win.”

Grace reached out to grab onto Miles’ arm and turn him back around. “No, Miles, no one is giving you shit.” Her voice softened before she continued. “Last year when Brian ended things with you, I think you were relieved to finally have him off your back so you could focus on work without him hounding you to put more effort towards him. I just know that it is so much different this time around. You are willing to sacrifice some aspects of your job in order to make things work with Tristan, which you would never do to save your relationship with Brian. Hunter see’s that and I think it’s just scaring him.”

Miles exhaled, calming down. “It is different, Grace. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before.” He hesitated briefly. “You think it’s bad that I’m changing for Tristan?” he asked unsure.

Grace smiled slightly. “No, of course not. You just need to focus when you’re in the office so you can get your job done correctly.” Her tone was teasing. “Stop making stupid mistakes so you can reassure your brother you’re taking the CSIS project seriously.”

Miles rolled his eyes, breaking into a smile. “Fine, I’ll stop thinking about Tristan’s amazing dick while I’m typing out payments.”

Grace laughed, punching her best friend in the shoulder. “Good idea.”


	9. Just Another Day in the Office

It had been a couple weeks since the morning Miles spent with Tristan, Grace and Hunter, fixing the company’s website. Miles and Tristan’s relationship had remained steady through the month of November, spending most of their free time hanging out, going on dates, and of course having lots of sex.

HCC had officially begun construction at the CSIS jobsite. This had brought a very busy atmosphere into the Hollingsworth office as everyone crammed to make sure the building execution was running smoothly. Miles had loads of work stacking up, causing his stress level to heighten. It was a good thing he had Tristan to help him relax after a long days work.

Beginning the week of Thanksgiving, winter came early in Toronto, as Miles awoke to an accumulation of six or seven centimeters of snow dusting the city’s streets. Although six centimeters was nothing compared to the buildup of snow they received later in winter, it was still enough to slow the morning commute as Miles drove to the office.

Just like the new normal for Miles at Hollingsworth Construction, when he arrived at his office he began checking in with each of the project managers, making sure his employees had their shit together. The company couldn’t risk slipping up now that they were overwhelmed with building projects, and it was Miles’ job to make sure everything stayed on track.

Once Miles was finished meeting with his staff, he decided to give his boyfriend a call from inside his office.

“Hey, handsome,” Tristan picked up the phone, his tone soft and teasing.

Miles glanced at the time displayed in the corner of his computer screen. “Shit, did I wake you? I forgot you had the week off.” Miles remembered the theatre Tristan taught at was closed the whole week for Thanksgiving break.

“You know I don’t mind being woken up by you,” Tristan flirted.

Miles smiled against his phone. “What are you up to today?”

“Well I’m going to go for a run in a little bit and then I was hoping to meet my boyfriend for lunch.”

“The sidewalks might be icy. You should be careful on your run,” Miles worried.

“Hm, maybe I’ll go to the gym instead then,” Tristan reconsidered. “How’s work?”

“Busy as usual,” Miles groaned. “Hunter might have my ass if I try and leave the office for lunch. Do you want to swing by here?” Tristan hadn’t been to the HCC office, yet, but Miles knew it was about time he paid a visit.

The question caught Tristan off guard, but he quickly recovered. “Uh—yeah, I’ll bring food.”

The door to Miles’ office suddenly opened and Hunter walked in, closing the door behind him and silently taking a seat across from Miles’ desk. Miles noticed the fretting look in his brother’s expression.

“Sounds good. I have to go, Tris. I’ll see you then.” Miles kept his eyes locked on Hunter as Tristan said goodbye and he hung up the phone. “What’s going on?” Miles addressed his brother.

“Tom Brennan just gave me his two weeks notice,” Hunter informed.

Miles cocked an eyebrow. “Why?” Tom was one of the supervisors assigned to the CSIS project. He’d been with the company almost a year, but was definitely replaceable.

“He got offered an executive job at some new company.”

Miles watched Hunter, confused by the panic covering his face. Miles shrugged, “Good for him.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes, incredulity and agitation now seeping through his expression. “Good for him? You’re kidding me.”

Miles sighed. “Hunter, I don’t know why you’re freaking out. We don’t need him.”

“That’s not the point,” Hunter raised his voice. “We’ve been running this company for over three years now and not once has someone quit.”

Miles rubbed at his forehead, starting to get a headache, probably from the lack of caffeine in his body. “What are you talking about?”

“No employee has ever quit Hollingsworth Construction before. Sure, we’ve fired people, but nobody has voluntarily wanted to leave,” Hunter rushed to explain.

“So what? That’s part of running a company, Hunter. People are going to quit. We can hire somebody else,” Miles attempted to reassure.

“What if more people quit? We can’t afford to lose some of our best workers when our biggest project yet is just getting started. The company could be falling apart! Why don’t you care?” Hunter snapped.

Miles took a deep breath, trying to keep himself calm and his voice at a reasonable level. He knew his brother was just stressed, and wasn’t intentionally trying to pick a fight with him. “Listen to me. The company is not going to fall apart because everyone loves working for us. Just because one stupid supervisor decided to quit doesn’t mean anything is going to change.”

Hunter ran a hand through his spikes of hair, composing himself as the redness from the heat of the moment left his face. “I really hope so, Miles, because I heard Tom was talking to a couple other supervisors, probing them to quit, too.”

“Fuck,” Miles muttered. It was a classic move when joining a new company to try and recruit fellow coworkers to follow. Hell, Miles had even tried it when he quit his old job to open Hollingsworth Construction. “He can’t stay here for two more weeks then, if he’s running his mouth. Today can be his last day.”

Hunter nodded, “You can tell him that.” He pushed the chair he was sitting in back before standing up and walking to the door. “And don’t forget we’re meeting with CSIS tomorrow. You need to finish reviewing all the paperwork from the employees on the job.”

“I got it. Everything’s going to be fine, Hunter,” Miles promised, but his brother ignored him, exiting his office without further word.

 

After checking his emails, Miles headed to the break room to make himself a cup of coffee. He greeted a couple employees that were hanging around the room, before pulling out his phone to shoot Tristan a text as his coffee brewed. _Looking forward to showing you my office ;) ___

Miles’ phone vibrated in his hand a minute later, Tristan catching on to exactly what he was insinuating. _I’ve always wanted to be bent over your desk. _Miles bit his lip, holding back laughter as he pocketed his phone and picked up his coffee cup, walking out of the break room.__

Miles took a detour on his way back to his office, moving towards the cubicles of supervisors on the opposite side of Hollingsworth Headquarters. He came to a stop once he was in front of just the man’s he was looking for.

“Tom,” Miles spoke causing the other man to jump before looking up from his computer screen.

“Hello, Mr. Hollingsworth,” the other man greeted, clearly caught off guard.

“Can I have a word in my office?” Miles gestured behind him with a crook of his head. Tom Brennan nodded, rising from his seat to follow Miles through the firm.

“Close the door and have a seat, Tom,” Miles instructed as they reached his office and he made his way to sit in his leather swivel chair behind his desk.

Tom did as he was told, Miles taking notice to the sheen of sweat across the older man’s forehead as he took a seat across from his younger boss.

“I’ll cut right to the chase,” Miles began. “The company’s already found a replacement for your position,” he lied. “So, we won’t be needing you to work an extra two weeks. I need you to clean out your desk by the end of the day.”

Tom stared wide-eyed at Miles for a moment before nodding. 

Miles put on a fake smile as he rose from his chair. “Your last paycheck will come in the mail. It’s been great having you here and I wish you the best of luck in the future, Tom.” Miles outstretched his arm to shake hands with the other man.

“Thank you, Mr. Hollingsworth.” Tom stood to shake hands with Miles before turning to leave, his shoulders slumping on his way out.

With that done, Miles returned to work, counting down the minutes until Tristan got there. He started going through the CSIS paperwork, comparing it with the electronic copies that had been scanned over.

It was half past noon when his office phone rang, the caller id indicating it was his receptionist. “Hey, Amanda,” Miles picked up the phone.

“Hello, Mr. Hollingsworth. There’s a Tristan Milligan here to see you?” The statement came out like a question.

Miles chuckled, “Yeah, you can send him back.” He set the phone down and began closing out of the documents he was working on.

There was a short knock at his door a moment later. “Come in,” Miles called.

Miles glanced up from his computer screen as Tristan opened the door, stepping into his office with a smile. “Wow, I feel so underdressed here,” Tristan remarked.

Miles immediately broke into a grin as he caught sight of his boyfriend. “Close the door and lock it,” Miles spoke.

Tristan followed instructions before setting the plastic bag of food he was carrying down on Miles’ desk and taking off his coat. Miles turned back to his computer to finish closing out of a couple more things while Tristan rounded his desk and came to sit in Miles’ lap.

Miles dropped the mouse to his computer and wrapped his arms around Tristan, pushing his chair back from his desk to give them more space. He pressed a kiss in greeting against Tristan’s lips. “How was the gym?”

“Same old, same old.” Tristan leaned in to press kisses against Miles’ neck. “I bought sandwiches. Do you want to eat first?”

Miles shook his head. “Please tell me you brought lube.”

Tristan smirked, sitting up straighter to fish a small tube out of his pocket along with a condom. He held both of them up to show Miles before placing them on the mahogany desk.

“You’re amazing,” Miles commented, bringing his hands to rest against the sides of Tristan’s face. “We have to be quiet, babe.” The last thing Miles needed was the whole company to hear the two of them having sex, particularly Hunter, who was only a couple doors down.

Tristan mimed zipping his lips, causing Miles to laugh. He pulled the other boy in, connecting their mouths together.

Miles moved his hands to entangle in Tristan’s hair as Tristan’s tongue ran across the crease of Miles’ lips before pushing through and entering Miles’ mouth. Miles’ tongue collided with Tristan’s, deepening the kiss.

Tristan’s hands wandered down to start loosening Miles’ tie as he continued to openly kiss the other boy. When he couldn’t get the knot undone, he pulled back frustrated, tugging lightly on the tie. “Get this off.”

Miles huffed a laugh, pressing forward to kiss Tristan again before pulling away and taking off his tie. He then moved to start unbuttoning his dress shirt while Tristan pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor.

Tristan slid out of Miles’ lap, kicking off his shoes in a hurry and dropped his pants, along with his boxers.

Miles ran his eyes up and down Tristan’s body as he finished the last button of his shirt and pulled it off. “God, you’re hot.”

Tristan chuckled, dropping to his knees in front of Miles and reached for his belt. “And, you’re slow.” He tugged on Miles’ belt. “I need you out of these pants.” Tristan undid Miles’ belt buckle and unzipped his pants before Miles lifted his ass out of the seat so Tristan could yank his pants and boxers down in one swift motion.

Miles watched Tristan with hooded eyes as the boy took his erection into his hand and guided it into his mouth. Tristan swirled his tongue around the top of Miles’ dick before sucking down painstakingly slow. Miles whimpered as Tristan deep throated him, Tristan immediately backing off to shush him.

Miles bit his lip, closing his eyes in concentration as he felt Tristan’s lips surround his dick and his tongue pressed firm against the underside before he sunk down.

Tristan bobbed up and down a couple times, Miles fighting back moans, before he pulled off and stood back up. Tristan resituated himself in Miles’ lap, pressing forward to kiss and lick into his mouth. 

Miles brought his hands to the small of Tristan’s back, grinding his hips up to gain some friction as their swollen dicks rubbed together. Tristan kissed along his jaw, moving his lips to Miles’ ear.

“Open me up so I can ride you,” he whispered, his breath tickling Miles’ skin.

Miles didn’t need to be told twice. He stood up, lifting Tristan to sit on his desk, pushing random folders and papers aside. He leaned in to kiss Tristan, sucking on the boy’s lips and tongue before pulling back. “Turn around,” Miles instructed as he searched for the tube of lube that had fallen under some paperwork on his desk.

Tristan slid off the desk, turning his back to Miles as he bent over. Miles crouched down, lube in hand, before separating Tristan’s perfect tight ass.

Miles leaned in; licking across Tristan’s hole, then began circling it with his tongue. Tristan took a sharp intake of breath at the sensation before mumbling out Miles’ name. Miles pushed his tongue into Tristan’s hole, licking inside him, causing Tristan to whine lowly.

Miles moved his tongue in and out at a slow pace as he opened the tube of lube and slicked up his fingers. He brought his hand up and pushed a finger in along with his tongue, crooking his finger, searching for Tristan’s prostate.

Miles pulled his tongue out and inserted a second finger, scissoring his fingers as he stood back up. He turned Tristan around, adjusting his hand behind him as he continued to stretch Tristan out. 

Miles watched Tristan’s face, knowing the exact moment he brushed against his prostate when Tristan released a sharp moan. Miles laughed lightly, reaching to place his free hand over Tristan’s mouth to muffle the sounds as he continued to prod against his sweet spot.

When Tristan was practically writhing beneath him, Miles pulled his fingers out, dropping the hand covering Tristan’s mouth and taking a step back. “You good?”

Tristan nodded in response, pushing Miles back down into his chair. He climbed into his lap, wrapping his legs around Miles’ torso between the back of the chair. Tristan gripped Miles’ shoulders, pressing forward to slot his lips with Miles’.

They kissed with fervor and passion, clashing tongues and teeth. Tristan pulled back slightly, both gasping for breath from the same air. 

Tristan wasted no time, leaning back to grab the condom off the desk. He ripped the wrapper open with his teeth before rolling it on Miles’ leaking shaft and took hold of his cock by the base. He used Miles’ shoulder for leverage as he lifted himself up, guiding Miles’ dick inside him.

Tristan lowered himself onto Miles with a quiet moan, adjusting once he bottomed out. He kept one hand on Miles’ shoulder and the other on the arm of the chair for support as he lifted himself up and dropped back down.

“Fuck, Tris,” Miles muttered, gripping tightly at the boy’s hips as Tristan repeated the bouncing motion, setting a pace.

Miles began to thrust up as Tristan rode him, quickening the pace and letting out groans in the process. Tristan kissed Miles, cutting off the noise by swallowing his moans as he continued moving up and down on Miles’ dick. The kiss was sloppy, a tangle of tongues, both of them unable to properly kiss each other when this stimulated.

Miles pulled back to speak, feeling the heat of Tristan around him. He gasped as Tristan sank back down again. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last.”

“S’okay,” Tristan mumbled leaning down to mouth at Miles’ neck, careful not to mark him. “Come for me, Miles,” he whispered.

Miles only lasted a dozen more thrusts before he was spilling inside Tristan, sinking his teeth into Tristan’s neck to muffle the whines. Tristan continued riding him throughout Miles’ orgasm, reaching down to tug at his dick, seeking his own climax.

It suddenly dawned on Miles the mess that would result from Tristan shooting his load between them. He placed his hand on Tristan’s, stopping its movement. “Tris, let me suck you off.”

Tristan met his gaze, his swollen lips parted, and gave a nod before climbing off of Miles. Miles pulled the condom off, throwing it in the garbage can under his desk and stood up. He quickly pulled Tristan by the waist, sitting him down in the chair.

Miles dropped to his knees, reaching to stroke Tristan’s dick once. He looked up at Tristan, the other boy’s face flushed. “Don’t touch my hair,” Miles warned before bending his head down to take Tristan into his mouth. He bobbed his head fast, sucking hard, his cheeks hallowing, causing Tristan to moan.

Miles pulled off, licking at the pre-come, his tongue tracing the slit, and then sunk back down. Tristan was breathing heavy, his hands inching at the back of Miles’ neck, looking for something to hold onto.

Miles reached up to take one of Tristan’s hands and tangle their fingers together as he continued to swallow him down.

Tristan suddenly came with a groan, shooting his load to the back of Miles’ throat. Miles sucked him dry before he pulled off and swallowed.

“Fuck, Miles,” Tristan hummed, smiling through his post-orgasmic bliss. “You’re so good.”

Miles laughed, standing up and leaned forward to kiss Tristan sweetly. He then began picking up their discarded clothes from the floor, tossing a disheveled Tristan his pants. “Get dressed.”

“Are you kicking me out, Mr. Hollingsworth?” Tristan cocked an eyebrow, smirking, as he pulled on his boxers.

“Of course not,” Miles responded, pulling on his pants. “But, I’d rather not risk getting caught in a compromising position by one of my employees any longer.”

“Aw, I thought we’d eat lunch naked,” Tristan teased.

“Maybe dinner.” Miles leaned in to kiss Tristan once more before they both finished getting dressed.

They ate their sandwiches with the door open ajar, Tristan sitting in the chair across from Miles’ desk. When they were done eating lunch, Tristan decided it was time for him to go and Miles needed to get back to work so he wouldn’t be stuck reviewing paperwork all night.

Miles walked with Tristan through the office, past the front desk where the receptionist was seated, and hovered by the front door to say goodbye.

“Well this was fun,” Tristan spoke, smiling at Miles.

Miles chuckled. “We’ll have to do it more often.”

Tristan nodded in agreement. “You wanna come over later after work?”

“Yeah, it might be a little later than usual. I have a lot of shit I have to finish up since we’re meeting with CSIS tomorrow,” Miles explained, scratching at his eyebrow when he felt his receptionist looking at them.

“Okay, you want me to order sushi for dinner?” Tristan asked, knowing it was one of Miles’ favorite meals.

“Sure.” Miles smiled before leaning in to give Tristan a peck on the lips. 

Tristan’s phone began vibrating in his pocket and he reached in to pull it out, frowning when he saw who was calling.

“Who is it?” Miles asked curiously, raising his eyebrows at the reaction the call had gotten out of Tristan.

“Uh—just Owen,” he clarified, the smile immediately returning to Tristan’s face as he silenced his phone and slid it back into his pocket. “I’ll see you tonight.” Tristan leaned in to give Miles another quick kiss on the lips before leaving through the front door of HCC headquarters without further word.

Miles watched after him for a moment through the glass doors before turning around to head back to his office.

“That your boyfriend?” Amanda asked, not looking up from her computer screen, as Miles passed the front desk.

Amanda had been the receptionist at Hollingsworth Construction ever since the beginning. She was amazing at her job and Miles wouldn’t know what to do without her running the front desk. She was familiar with Miles’ personal life, including his sexuality. They'd become great work friends over the years.

Miles stopped and rested his arms on her desk, looking at her. “Yes,” he replied simply.

Amanda glanced up from her computer, smiling at him. “He’s cute.”

Miles mirrored her smile, tapping his fingers absentmindedly on her desk. “Thank you.”

He stepped back from the front desk to go to his office. “Hey, Miles,” Amanda spoke, stopping him from leaving the entrance room. “Hunter’s on the warpath for you,” she provided, not looking up as she typed rapidly on her keyboard. Amanda was one of the few people that caught on to the tension recently between the Hollingsworth brothers.

“Great,” Miles muttered sarcastically before continuing the walk to his office.

As Miles approached his office, Hunter was leaning against the doorframe of his own workroom, which was a couple doors down from Miles’. He cleared his voice to get Miles’ attention.

Miles gave him a head nod in acknowledgment before entering his office. He left his door open, knowing very well that his brother would follow.

As Miles sat down in his chair and began tidying up his messy desk, Hunter stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Have you talked to Tom?” he asked immediately.

“Already done,” Miles replied matter-of-factly. “His desk will be cleaned out by the end of the day.”

“Good,” Hunter nodded, lurking around his desk as Miles shuffled papers together. “So, Tristan was here?”

Miles glanced up, attempting to read his brother’s face. “Yeah.”

“What’d you guys do?” Hunter questioned.

Miles narrowed his eyes. “We ate lunch.”

Hunter snorted in disbelief. “You know the rule we have about not dating any employees?” Miles watched him, not offering a response before Hunter continued. “We need a new rule. No fucking your boyfriend in the office.”

Miles chuckled, shaking his head before returning to straightening up his desk. “What makes you think we had sex?”

Hunter raised his eyebrows. “I bet there’s a used rubber in your trash can right now,” he said dryly. “Unless you guys aren’t capping it.”

“Don’t worry. We practice safe sex.” Miles shot him a shit-eating grin.

Hunter rolled his eyes, biting back a smile. He shoved his brother lightly before heading towards the door. “Get back to work, Miles.”

 

It was a little after seven when Miles finally left the office for the day. The sidewalks had been shoveled and the streets plowed since the morning snowfall, making the drive to Tristan’s uptown apartment easy.

Miles was forced to park a block down from Tristan’s apartment, since parking was always a bitch on his street. He parallel parked into a rather tight spot before making the quiet walk to the apartment building.

Night had fallen upon the city, the sky darkening as the streetlamps became the main source of light. The street was deserted besides a couple people lingering outside of Tristan’s building in the distance.

As Miles got closer to the apartment he overheard the two men standing outside arguing. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the fighting seemed pretty heated. 

Miles took a couple more steps forward before he slowed and came to a stop, recognizing the pale skin and jet-black hair of the smaller man standing closest to the brick building.

Miles stood frozen in place, contemplating whether or not to interject the argument. Who was this broad-shouldered angry man Tristan was fighting with?

Before Miles could form any coherent thoughts, he witnessed the bigger man throw a punch at Tristan’s face, sending him stumbling backwards, and a trail of blood flying from his mouth.

Miles’ eyes zeroed in on Tristan’s crimson red blood splattered on the white snow under the streetlamp, before he lunged forward.


	10. Blood and Bruises

It all happened so fast.

Miles sprinted forward, watching the man give a hard blow to Tristan’s temple and a left hook to the nose, causing Tristan to loose balance and plummet onto the concrete sidewalk. The man bent over Tristan to beat him a couple more times before Miles finally caught up.

“Get off of him!” Miles yelled, yanking the bigger man away from Tristan and throwing his own punch. 

“Fuck,” the deeply voiced man responded as Miles’ fist connected with his cheekbone. He recovered fast, striking Miles’ jaw with bloody knuckles. Miles immediately recognized the metallic salty taste of blood in his mouth and grew more furious, his whole body shaking.

The man blocked Miles’ second punch, kneeing Miles in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He hit the side of his forehead, the rings on his hand slicing Miles’ skin and knocking him off his feet. 

“James!” Miles heard Tristan’s cracked voice scream over the ringing in his ears. “James, leave him alone!”

“So, this is the pretty boy you left me for,” the man, James, spit over Miles, before turning to Tristan’s crippling form and walking over to him. “You worthless slut.”

James kicked Tristan in the chest, the other boy crying out in pain and curling in on himself as James brought his foot back to kick again.

Miles scrambled up off the ground, wiping the warm blood out of his eye as he heard the deafening sound of James’ foot connecting with Tristan’s body. “Get the fuck away from him!” Miles yelled as James kicked again, Tristan wincing as he tried to move away helplessly.

Miles pushed James away from Tristan, his whole body quivering in anger. His vision blurred as he threw another punch at James.

James took the hit, stumbling backwards before dryly laughing, only making Miles more livid. Miles stepped forward, raising his fist again, but the bigger man held up his hands. “Relax, money bags. I’m leaving.” James turned and walked down the sidewalk, Miles staring after him fuming. He debated whether or not to go after him.

“Miles,” Tristan murmured as he sat up, breaking Miles’ attention.

Miles turned, eyes going wide at the sight of his boyfriend. “Fuck, Tris,” he rushed over, kneeling down beside Tristan, the boy seeming to catch his breath. Tristan’s face was covered in blood; it was hard to tell where the blood was even coming from. His nose was bleeding, along with a cut under his mouth and somewhere on his forehead. “Oh my God. Should I call the police? Do you need to go to the hospital? Who the fuck was that?” his questions came out in a jumble.

“No,” Tristan croaked in panic. “No police, no hospital.” He brought his hand up to his face, feeling the blood that was trickling down his forehead. He winced as his fingers brushed over the gash at his hairline. “Just— take me to your place?”

Miles drew his eyebrows together at his boyfriend’s broken appearance. He was confused and panicking and didn’t know what the best thing to do was, but Miles gave Tristan a hesitant nod, standing to his feet.

He held out his hands to help Tristan up, the other boy wincing and shuddering as he came to stand. Miles watched Tristan begin walking towards the BMW parked down the street, clearly in pain.

Miles walked closely next to Tristan, keeping a soft hand on his upper back to guide him towards his car. The horrid sound of James kicking Tristan kept replaying in Miles’ head.

The drive back to Miles’ apartment was silent. Miles kept peaking at Tristan from the corner of his eye, but seeing his boyfriend’s bloody face only upset him more. He kept a strong grip on the steering wheel, telling himself that Tristan’s unusual silence was only a result of aftershock.

When they reached Miles’ apartment building, Tristan tried to wipe as much of the blood as he could off of his face with his jacket sleeve before getting out of the car. Luckily, it looked like most of the cuts had stopped bleeding, however he was still covered in dry blood.

Miles held the doors open for Tristan as they entered the building. Frank, the building’s security guard greeted them with apprehensive eyes as he took in their bloody and beaten appearances. “Everything okay, Mr. Hollingsworth?”

Miles feigned his best smile. “We’re good, Frank. Just a bar fight,” he explained.

Frank nodded, unsure of the situation before wishing them a good night as they entered the elevator.

Just like the car ride, Tristan was quiet as they rode the elevator to Miles’ floor. When the elevator doors opened, they both walked out and down the hall to Miles’ apartment. Miles unlocked the door and they stepped in, taking off their coats and shoes, moving slowly.

After dropping his shoes on the floor, Tristan looked at Miles hesitantly, uncertain of what to do next. Miles met his gaze, his eyes softening as he took Tristan’s hand and lead him to his bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom.

Miles sat Tristan down on the closed toilet, before turning away. He rummaged through the vanity’s drawers and medicine cabinet, pulling out some gauze pads and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. As he closed the cabinet, Miles caught sight of his own reflection. He had a small cut on the side of his forehead that had bled down his face and a little dried blood in the corner of his mouth, but his injuries were nothing compared to Tristan’s.

Miles picked up the gauze and bottle, kneeling down in front of Tristan. He poured some of the peroxide onto the gauze and reached up to rub it lightly across the cut at Tristan’s hairline, wiping away the blood. Tristan watched him clean his wounds, occasionally stiffening when Miles applied too much pressure on a sensitive spot or the peroxide stung his open gash.

Miles lowered his gaze, taking notice to the bruise forming along Tristan’s temple, brushing the pad of his thumb over it lightly before meeting his eyes. “Please, talk to me, Tris,” Miles’ voice came out wrecked as his hand stilled along Tristan’s face.

Tristan’s eyes brimmed with tears as he looked at Miles. He reached forward and trailed his fingers lightly across the cut on Miles’ forehead, before whispering, “I’m so sorry.”

Miles shook his head, bringing both of his hands to cup Tristan’s face. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

Tristan blinked back the tears that threatened to fall down his face. “He’s been calling and texting me. I—I should have told you, Miles. I just—I never thought he’d show up at my place. God, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“He’s your ex, isn’t he?” Miles asked, trying to make sense of what had happened. “From Ottawa?”

Tristan nodded, taking a couple deep breaths to collect himself.

“Tristan, listen to me.” Miles leaned forward, bringing himself closer to his boyfriend. “None of this is your fault. You can’t blame yourself and it kills me to see that he did this to you and I couldn’t stop it. That man is a horrible person, Tris, not you.” 

Miles felt his eyes begin to water and he knew, in that moment, how deeply he had fallen for Tristan. It hit him like never before how much it would hurt to lose this boy. “Tris, you’re the most loveable guy I know,” Miles admitted, wanting Tristan to know how much he meant to him.

And maybe Miles was one step away from saying the inevitable ‘I love you’, but Tristan had rushed forward to press his chapped lips against Miles’ bloody ones. He kissed him deep and hard, both boys trying to forget all the hurt that had happened to them earlier. The passion in the kiss was like no other as Tristan tried to express all his love and thanks for Miles that he had failed to voice. 

Without thinking, Miles instinctively brought his hands to grab onto Tristan’s waist, pulling the other boy closer to him. Tristan’s mouth immediately froze against Miles’ as he recoiled from his touch, wincing in pain.

Miles instantly pulled his hands back, holding them up as he broke away his mouth from Tristan’s. “Oh my god, Tris, I’m so sorry.”

Tristan wrapped his arms around his torso, trying to breathe through the discomfort. “I’m okay. It’s okay,” he tried to reassure Miles, knowing he wasn’t going to buy it.

Miles stood up, looking down at the other boy with drawn eyebrows. “Take your shirt off.”

“Miles—” Tristan attempted to argue but stopped himself when he saw the look of anguish on Miles’ face. He sighed before standing up slowly and reaching for the hem of his cotton t-shirt to pull over his head.

Miles gasped when his eyes met the blotches of deep purple bruising scattered across Tristan’s pale stomach. The contrast of white skin to black and blue bruises looked dreadful and made Miles cringe.

Tristan watched the wave of different emotions fluttering across Miles’ face. He took a step back to look at himself in the mirror above the sink, his eyes tracing the fresh bruises covering his side. “I think I cracked a rib,” Tristan commented, ignoring the sharp pain he felt every time he breathed.

“Fuck, Tris,” Miles came up behind him, dropping a light kiss on Tristan’s shoulder, careful not to touch him anywhere else. “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you,” Miles’ tone was soft, but powerful. “He’s never coming near you again, I promise.”

Tristan twisted around to face Miles, leaning in to kiss him. Miles remained still, only pressing his lips lightly against Tristan’s before pulling away. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Miles turned away from Tristan, opening up the glass shower door to turn on the water. Tristan finished undressing as Miles began taking off his own clothes and they both got into the shower together. 

They stood under the stream of water, Miles reaching out to help Tristan wash the blood off his face, being careful around the open cuts. “The fucker wore rings,” Miles remarked as he rubbed the dry blood off the gash on Tristan’s nose, the water in the shower turning rust colored as it swirled down the drain.

Tristan chuckled, before wincing at the pain shooting through his chest the laughter caused. “Ah, fuck,” Tristan muttered as he laughed breathily, holding his torso.

“Stop laughing,” Miles told the other boy with a smile, moving his hand to run through Tristan’s blood-soaked hair.

“Stop making me laugh,” Tristan challenged.

Miles shook his head, switching to wash his own face. “I shouldn’t have listened to you. I should’ve took you right to the hospital.”

Tristan rolled his eyes. “I’ll be fine, Miles.”

Miles spared himself a glance at Tristan’s body, regretting it immediately at the sight of his bruised and broken appearance. Miles returned his gaze to Tristan’s. “It doesn’t look like it.”

Tristan sighed taking a step forward, placing his hands on Miles’ hips. “I’ll prove it to you.” He leaned in to connect his mouth with Miles’, kissing the other boy intensely.

Miles moaned against Tristan’s lips as Tristan’s tongue darted inside his mouth, persistently tangling with Miles’ tongue. Miles kept his arms at his side, afraid of touching the other boy as he kissed him deeply.

“It’s okay to touch me,” Tristan breathed in between kisses, noticing the lack of Miles’ hands on his body. Tristan trailed one hand up Miles’ back, the other reaching between the two of them to grab Miles’ hardening cock by the base. 

Miles pulled his mouth back, his breath hitching at the contact of Tristan’s hand slowly pumping his dick. Tristan buried his face in the crook of Miles’ neck, kissing and sucking on his skin.

“Tris,” Miles breathed, “We can’t.”

“Hm?” Tristan mumbled as he continued to press hot kisses against Miles’ collarbone and slightly tightened his grip around Miles’ shaft.

“We can’t—” Miles was losing his train of thought as Tristan continued to work his dick. “We can’t have sex.”

Tristan’s hand stilled as he lifted his head to look at Miles with a raised eyebrow, feeling rejected. “Why not?”

Miles recognized the flash of hurt in Tristan’s eyes. “No, I mean I want to, but we can’t. Tris, look at you. I’m scared I’m going to hurt you if I touch you. I think you need to go to the doctor tomorrow and get your ribs checked out.”

Tristan nodded, mulling it over in his head. “Can I at least finish giving you a hand job?”

Miles broke into a smile, rolling his eyes. “How could I say no to that?” He sputtered, leaning in to kiss Tristan once again.

Tristan resumed moving his hand up and down Miles’ erection, quickening the speed as they kissed. Miles gasped and moaned into his mouth before he spilled between them, the orgasm catching him off guard and leaving his whole body tingling under the flow of warm shower water.

Tristan took a step back, smiling at his boyfriend’s sated expression as he came down from his orgasm. Miles leaned back against the tiled wall of the shower, watching Tristan.

“I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you, Tris. You scared me shitless tonight,” Miles spoke with honestly once he had caught his breath, letting Tristan know what has been on his mind ever since they got to his apartment.

The smile faded from Tristan’s expression as he recognized the worry in Miles’ tone. “I’m not going anywhere,” Tristan promised, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with Miles’ in reassurance.

Miles pressed his lips to Tristan’s forehead lightly, staying clear of the cut along his hairline, before shutting off the shower water. They both exited the shower and dried off, pulling on pairs of clean boxers that Miles had retrieved from his closet dresser.

Following their shower, the boys had a quiet evening after the madness that had happened outside of Tristan’s apartment building. Miles ordered sushi to be delivered like they had planned and they ate in Miles’ bed, watching television. After finishing dinner, Miles bandaged Tristan’s cuts before giving him some Advil PM to relieve the pain. It wasn’t long before Tristan had conked out against Miles’ shoulder, sleeping soundly.

Miles watched his boyfriend’s sleeping form, content in seeing all the stress from earlier absent from his face. He shut off the TV and lamp on his nightstand before lowering himself and Tristan down into the bed and pulling the covers over them.

Tristan barely stirred as Miles resituated them, the medicine having really knocked him out. Miles made sure Tristan was in a comfortable position before he settled in and allowed himself to drape a soft hand around Tristan’s shoulder.

It was a while before Miles finally drifted off to sleep, his mind running wild with the accounts of earlier. It was unlike Miles to not be able to sleep well when sharing a bed with Tristan, but tonight he wasn’t able to relax and shake the anxious feeling of worry.

That’s why when Tristan roused next to him around three a.m., Miles’ eyes shot open and he had to question whether he had even gotten any sleep. Miles watched Tristan get out of bed, hearing the other boy wince as he stood up and tried to stretch. “You okay?” Miles wondered aloud.

Tristan glanced back at Miles in bed seeming surprised he was awake. “Yeah,” was all he responded, before moving across the room and into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

A couple minutes later, the bathroom door reopened and Miles expected Tristan to climb back into bed, but instead he headed out of the bedroom silently.

Miles waited a moment to see if he’d return before sitting up, pushing the covers off of himself and running a hand through his tousled hair. He got out of bed, following Tristan out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen.

Miles found the kitchen empty as he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge before stepping down the stairs into the living room. Tristan was sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead and hugging his knees close to his chest.

Miles took a drink from the water bottle as he made his way over and set it on the coffee table. He sat next to Tristan on the couch, looking at the other boy in the dark room. It took a moment for Miles to recognize the glint of tears escaping Tristan’s eyes and trailing down his cheeks. “Oh, Tris.”

Tristan looked at Miles then, brushing the tears away with his fingertips, his whole composure from earlier broken. 

“Come here,” Miles mumbled, putting his arm around Tristan and pulling the other boy closer to him. Tristan collapsed into Miles, burying his head into Miles’ bare chest, his body trembling in tears.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m right here,” Miles whispered into Tristan’s hair, pressing kisses on the top of his head as he rubbed a soothing hand up and down Tristan’s back. He let Tristan cry.

It was tearing Miles up seeing Tristan this upset and emotional, feeling his wet tears drip onto his chest. Miles couldn’t help but blame himself for letting James hurt him. It was his job to protect Tristan and he had failed. Now all he could do was hold the boy tighter in his arms and try to put Tristan’s pieces back together.

Tristan eventually cried himself out and shortly after, passed out with his head in Miles’ lap on the couch. Miles continued stroking his hair as he slept, until Miles could no longer keep his eyes open. He lied down on the couch beside Tristan, spooning him in his arms.

Before Miles fell back to sleep he pressed a kiss to Tristan’s cheek and whispered the three words he’d been keeping inside for a while now. Although there was no way the other boy could heard him in his deep sleep, Miles still whispered softly in his ear, “I love you, Tristan.”


	11. The Aftermath

“Are you on your way? CSIS is going to be here in an hour and I want to go over some things.”

Miles ran a hand across his face, peering over at Tristan fast asleep on the couch in the living room, the morning light shining in through the blinds. He was dreading this conversation. “Listen, Hunter, about that..” Miles paced the kitchen, speaking lowly into his cell phone. “We need to cancel the meeting.”

There was quiet on the other line for a moment before Hunter responded angrily, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Miles held the phone back from his ear slightly, Hunter’s loud voice echoing through the receiver. “I can’t come to work today. I need to stay with Tristan,” Miles explained, pleading for his brother to understand.

“What do you mean you need to stay with Tristan?” Hunter’s voice boomed. “Do you not realize how important this is? Get your ass to work! Your boyfriend can wait.”

Miles sighed, “Hunter, I’m not making this shit up. Something came up and I can’t leave him. You need to call CSIS and cancel the meeting. Tell them there was an emergency and we’ll reschedule after Thanksgiving.” Miles knew the meeting could wait till next week. Tristan’s health, on the other hand, could not.

Miles waited for Hunter to respond, but when nothing came he realized the line was dead. His brother had hung up on him. “Great,” Miles muttered under his breath, picking up his coffee mug from the counter and heading back into the living room. He’d deal with his brother’s irrational behavior later.

As he approached the leather couch, Miles noticed Tristan’s eyes were open where he lay, so Miles sat down on the coffee table, facing him. “Hey, how are you feeling?” he spoke softly, the aggravation in his tone from before now absent.

The bruising on Tristan’s face was a lot more evident this morning, parts of his face even swollen. Tristan looked up at Miles before speaking. “You didn’t have to do that.” His voice was scratchy and dry.

Miles pursed his lips and set his coffee down on the table, understanding that Tristan must have overheard him on the phone with Hunter. “It’s no big deal,” he replied honestly, not wanting Tristan to worry about Hunter and the company.

Tristan sat up, wincing as he moved his body. “It is a big deal. I never want to come between you and the company, Miles. You should go to work. I’ll be okay.”

Miles reached out to squeeze Tristan’s hands lightly. “Don’t be ridiculous. Hunter just overreacts. You should know that by now,” he teased. “Plus, you’re going to the doctor today.” Miles wanted Tristan to get his ribs checked out from last night’s fight.

Tristan shrugged, letting it go. “I should call Owen and tell him what happened.”

Miles leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against Tristan’s lips. “I’ll let you do that.” He stood up, picking up his coffee and walked down the hall to his bedroom, giving Tristan some privacy to talk to his brother. Miles remembered that Owen had helped Tristan get out of his relationship with James when things first went downhill. It would be good for Tristan to talk to him about this.

Around twenty minutes later, Tristan joined Miles in the bedroom, moving to sit in front of him on the bed. Miles sat up from where he was leaning against the headboard, mirroring Tristan’s crossed-legged position. 

“How’d that go?” Miles questioned, noticing Tristan’s slightly reddened eyelids. It was a telltale sign he had shed tears while on the phone.

Tristan shrugged. “He wants me to visit him in Mississauga for Thanksgiving, since I can’t see my parents looking like this.” He gestured to his face. “I think my mom would have a heart attack if she saw me like this.”

Miles offered a smile, wanting to be supportive. “Yeah, you should. It’ll be good for you to spend time with Owen.”

Tristan reached forward to take Miles’ hand, playing with his fingers. “I want you to come.” Miles raised his eyebrows at that before Tristan continued, “I mean, if you don’t have plans with your parents or siblings.”

Miles thought about it for a moment, watching Tristan intertwine their fingers. “Well, you know I’d do anything to get out of Thanksgiving dinner with my father. Are you sure Owen wouldn’t mind?” The idea of leaving Toronto with Tristan for a couple days was awfully tempting.

Tristan nudged Miles’ knee with their hands, causing him to look up and meet his gaze. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay, I’ll go,” Miles caved. “But I need you to promise me something first.”

Tristan drew his eyebrows together curiously. “Anything.”

Miles took a much-needed breath. “I need you to promise me that from now on you’ll tell me everything. In the future, if James reaches out to you again, I need you to tell me. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep things from me ever,” Miles admitted.

Tristan leaned forward slightly, feeling a rush of guilt. “I’m sorry, Miles. I never meant to keep anything from you.”

Miles bit his lip nervously and hesitated before speaking. “Do you trust me?”

Tristan placed one of his hands on Miles’ knee in comfort. “Of course I trust you. Miles, I—I care so much about you and I never want to hurt you by keeping things from you.” He squeezed Miles’ knee, rubbing the pad of his thumb against it. “I promise to tell you everything, baby.”

Miles pressed forward, closing the distance between them to connect their lips, keeping the kiss soft and sweet. The kiss sealed their promise of trust and honesty, making both boys feel a whole lot better about their relationship.

 

That afternoon Miles drove Tristan downtown to his doctor’s office. Tristan needed to get his ribs x-rayed in case anything had broken during the fight.

Miles sat in the waiting room, flipping through a boring magazine that he wasn’t really interested in, while Tristan saw the doctor. Miles couldn’t stop worrying about Tristan and all the effects the encounter with James had on him. He tapped his foot impatiently against the white tile floor, thinking about everything he would do to James if he ever saw that man again.

It wasn’t long after when Tristan reemerged, holding a small slip of paper in his hand. He smiled when Miles immediately looked up at him, relief floundering his expression.

“Ready?” Tristan asked as he approached the other boy. Miles nodded and stood up to walk out of the doctor’s office with Tristan.

“What’d he say?” Miles questioned as they made their way out of the building and towards his car parked in the neighboring parking garage.

“It’s not so bad. I have a small crack in one of my ribs, but he taped it.” Tristan lifted up his shirt, showing Miles the medical tape across his side. “He gave me a prescription for some painkillers,” Tristan waved the slip of paper at Miles. “But here’s the bad news…” Miles raised his eyebrows, wondering what else could be wrong. “You’re going to have to go easy on me in bed for a couple weeks.”

Miles snorted, having been expecting something a lot worse. He unlocked his car and opened up the passenger door for Tristan to get in. “I guess I’ll just have to bottom,” Miles replied as Tristan sat in the leather passenger seat.

Tristan smirked up at Miles and Miles chuckled before closing the door and heading around the car to the driver’s side to get in.

 

After filling Tristan’s prescription at the local drug store, the boys returned to Miles’ apartment. Tristan took his pain relievers, which left him very tired, and sprawled against Miles on the couch while they watched television. He drifted in and out of sleep as Miles flipped through different channels, eventually settling on a hockey game.

It was half past six when there was a soft knock at Miles’ door. Tristan’s eyes fluttered open and he sat up as Miles stood to answer the door.

Grace stood on the opposite side of the threshold, tying her hair back into a loose ponytail with a hair tie. She was wearing a casual black dress, meaning she must have just come from work. 

Grace looked up at Miles, letting her hair fall, and took in his face. “Holy shit. That is quite the shiner,” she laughed, referring to the bruising above his right eye. “Who’d you piss off?”

Miles sighed at his best friend. “What are you doing here?”

Grace pushed through the door, letting herself into Miles’ apartment, per usual. She ditched her heels by the door before turning back to face him. “Well, Hunter called me, telling me you ditched the meeting. But, now I see why. He would have killed you if you showed up sporting a left hook.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “You want a drink?”

“Sure.” She turned around to the living room and spotted Tristan sitting on the couch. “Oh my god. What the fuck happened to you guys?” Her eyes went wide as she took in Tristan’s bruised face and she moved closer to sit in the armchair.

“Hi, Grace,” Tristan greeted as Miles retreated to the kitchen and grabbed two beers. Miles popped the caps off before returning to the living room and handed one to Grace.

Grace watched Miles take a sip from his beer. “Geez, get your boyfriend one. He looks like he needs it the most.”

Miles sat down on the couch next to Tristan. “He can’t drink. He’s on painkillers.”

Grace raised her eyebrows. “So what happened? Did you two get into a fight and decide to beat the shit out of each other?”

Miles narrowed his eyes. “Shut up, Grace.” He knew Grace was just joking, but given the circumstances, it pained him to think about ever laying a hand on Tristan.

“No, uh— my ex-boyfriend’s in town and he can get a little violent,” Tristan answered, watching Miles take a long drink of his beer.

“A little?” Grace mused. “Please tell me you got a restraining order. This guy sounds crazy.”

Miles met Tristan’s shifty eyes. “We’re handling it,” Miles responded.

The conversation lulled and Tristan took the opportunity to stand up. “Excuse me, I’m going to go lay down. These pills drain the life out of me. Have a goodnight, Grace.” 

“Oh, goodnight Tristan. Feel better,” Grace said. Tristan brushed his hand over Miles’ shoulder as he passed and Miles watched as he left the room.

He turned back when Tristan was no longer in sight and picked up his beer to take another gulp. Grace watched him. “Is he going to be okay?” she asked.

Miles heaved another sigh. “I hope so.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

Miles met his best friend’s eyes. “I’m fine. I just hate seeing him like this.”

She nodded in understanding, taking a sip of her beer. “Why’d he beat him up?” Grace wondered.

“I don’t know. He’s abusive. He beat Tristan up when they were together and then he showed up at his apartment, thinking Tristan owed him something. If I had just been there sooner, left work earlier, none of this would have happened.” Miles ran a hand over his face.

“You can’t blame yourself, Miles. It’s not your fault,” Grace told him.

“Yeah, I know,” Miles said. “He’s going to go to his brother’s for Thanksgiving. I think I’m going to go with him. It’ll be good for him to see Owen.”

“Wow, you’re skipping Thanksgiving at the mansion?” Grace asked.

“You’re surprised?”

Grace snorted. “No, not at all. But, what about the twins?”

Miles shrugged. “I’m sure Frankie will be upset, but she’ll get over it. And Hunter’s always pissed at me as it is, so what’s new?”

“Are you going to the office tomorrow?” Grace questioned before finishing off her beer and setting the empty bottle down on the coffee table.

“Yeah, briefly. I gotta pick up a few things.” Miles was dreading running in to Hunter at the office, but if he was going to Mississauga, he needed to get some paperwork to review. He couldn’t bear getting behind on his work, especially after skipping today.

Grace smiled, flicking her leg to kick Miles’ shin lightly. “Good luck.”

 

When Grace finally left after sharing a couple more beers with Miles, Miles grabbed Tristan’s pain meds and a bottle of water from the kitchen. He went to his bedroom, being quiet as he entered in case Tristan was sleeping.

Miles approached the side of the bed, realizing Tristan was awake and staring up at the ceiling. He reached out to run a hand through his curly hair. “Did you get any sleep?”

Tristan shifted to look at Miles, smiling softly. “Yeah, some.”

Miles sat down on the edge of the bed. “I brought you your meds. They’ll help you sleep.”

Tristan nodded, moving to sit up against the headboard. Miles handed him the bottle of water before opening the cap to the pill container and taking one out. He handed it to Tristan.

Tristan popped the pill, taking a swig of water to wash it down. Miles closed the pill bottle and took the water from Tristan, setting them down on the nightstand. Tristan flopped back down in the bed and Miles pulled the comforter around him, before standing up and crossing the room. Miles undressed, taking off his pants and shirt. He used the bathroom, brushing his teeth to get rid of the stench of beer.

When Miles returned from the bathroom, he climbed into bed next to Tristan, laying on his side and reaching out to touch the boy beside him. Tristan rolled over to face Miles, shifting closer into his open arms.

Their lips eventually found each other’s; at first soft but then the kiss became much deeper. Miles opened his mouth, letting Tristan in, their tongues meeting, wet and heavy. Tristan’s hands threaded through Miles’ hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, while Miles traced his fingers up and down Tristan’s spine.

Time seemed to slip away from them as they made out, both focusing on nothing but exploring each other’s mouths and bodies.

 

Miles had failed to remember to turn his alarm off, so he awoke to the blaring sound the following morning. He released a groan as he shut it off, dropping back down into bed.

Tristan was curled against him, awake and mouthing at his side, his breath tickling Miles’ skin. He planted wet kisses around the side of Miles’ chest and up his neck, sucking on his skin.

Miles stretched, feeling Tristan half hard pressed beside him. “Mm, good morning,” Miles smiled as Tristan continued planting kisses against his collarbone and trailed his tongue along the dip.

Tristan ran a hand down Miles’ torso, slipping his hand under the waistband of Miles’ boxers. Tristan began stroking Miles lazily.

Miles moaned at the contact, bucking his hips up into Tristan’s hand. Tristan took the opportunity to climb on top of Miles, hovering over him as he continued jerking him slowly. Miles looked up at Tristan, breathing heavily.

Tristan leaned down, pressing one soft kiss against Miles’ lips before pulling back. “I want to take you up on your offer,” Tristan said, his grip tightening slightly against Miles’ dick.

Miles gasped before speaking. “What offer would that be?”

Tristan released Miles, trailing his hand around the back of his boxers, feeling his ass. He buried his head into the crook of Miles’ neck as he brushed a finger against Miles’ hole.

Miles shuddered, his eyebrows shooting up as he realized what Tristan was insinuating. “Fuck, do that again.”

Tristan snickered into his neck before swiping his finger against the hole again, this time with a little pressure.

Miles bit his lip, trying to think straight. “Trist, what about your ribs?”

“They’re fine,” Tristan mumbled, pulling his hand out of Miles’ boxers to reach for the nightstand. He fumbled in the drawer, retrieving lube and a condom.

Miles held Tristan’s arm. “Hey, look at me.” Tristan picked his head up, looking at Miles with lust and slight confusion. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Tristan smiled, leaning in to kiss Miles. “We’ll go slow,” he promised. “Now, turn around.”

Miles sat up to nudge off his boxers, Tristan still hovering over his legs, pushing the comforter out of the way. Once he removed his boxers, Miles got to his knees, pulling Tristan in by the neck for a searing kiss. They locked lips, Miles angling his head to push his tongue deeper into Tristan’s mouth. Tristan moaned against the kiss, pulling Miles closer by the waist so their bodies were flush.

When they broke apart, Tristan pushed Miles down lightly onto the bed. “Turn around,” Tristan directed, reaching for the lube.

Miles rolled over, getting onto all fours and lowering himself onto his forearms. Tristan crawled up behind him, opening up the lube and squirting a generous about onto his fingers. He dropped the lube to this side and placed his other hand on Miles’ ass, groping him.

“Your ass is amazing,” Tristan commented, not sparing Miles time to respond as he slowly inserted a finger into his hole. Miles panted, digging and twisting his hands into the sheets of the bed as Tristan moved the finger in and out before adding a second.

Miles moaned as Tristan scissored his fingers inside him, stretching him good. “Fuck, Tris. I’m ready.”

Tristan slipped a third and final finger inside, Miles wincing slightly at the burn. Tristan ran a soothing hand up and down his side as he continued to finger him, before pulling out.

Miles lowered his head, pressing his forehead against his arms as he panted, waiting for Tristan. Tristan opened the condom, rolling it on and lubed himself up. 

He rose to his knees, hovering behind Miles, the tip of his dick pressed to his hole. “You okay?” Tristan asked.

Miles nodded. “Yes.”

Tristan slowly pushed inside him, gripping Miles’ hips, until he bottomed out. Miles trembled beneath him slightly as Tristan held against him, loving how tight Miles felt.

Miles clenched around him. “Tristan, you gotta move,” he breathed out.

Tristan pulled out before thrusting back in, setting a slow but deep pace. Tristan grunted at every thrust as Miles gasped and moaned beneath him. He leaned forward to press kisses against Miles’ spine as Tristan continued fucking him deeply, keeping his hips even as not to upset his ribs.

Miles twisted his hands in the sheets, needing something to hold onto, as Tristan pushed into him hard. Miles released a groan, loving the feeling of Tristan inside him. There was no one better.

“Miles—,” Tristan panted. “I wanna see you.” He pulled out, sitting back slightly. “Turn around.”

Miles didn’t waist time rolling over and falling onto his back. He looked up at Tristan, his face flushed as he caught his breath. Tristan looked down at him for a moment, smiling.

Miles smiled back. “Get down here.”

Tristan laughed, dropping down to connect his lips with Miles’, kissing the other boy eagerly. Miles threaded his fingers through Tristan’s hair, spreading his legs so Tristan could settle between them. 

Tristan lifted Miles’ hips, grabbing a pillow to shove underneath him. He lined up with his hole again before thrusting inside him, picking up right where they left off. Miles cried out at the new angle as Tristan hit his prostate head on.

Their kissing got swallowed up by moans as they breathed into each other’s mouths, Miles yelping as Tristan continued to plunge deeply into that sensitive spot.

Tristan reached between them to stroke Miles’ dick, matching the pace with every thrust. It wasn’t long before Tristan was spilling inside Miles, his hips stuttering through his orgasm.

Miles came hard immediately after, Tristan falling on top of him with sweat and afterglow. They both lied there for a moment, catching their breath, before Tristan pulled out and ditched the condom. He then fell back on top of Miles, resting his chin on his chest.

Miles broke into a grin as he peered down at Tristan. “Morning sex has never felt so good.”

Tristan laughed, shifting up to kiss Miles. “You got that right,” he spoke against his lips, pressing their foreheads together as they kissed.

 

Eventually, Miles unwillingly dragged himself out of bed to shower and dress for work. He wanted nothing more than to spend the day with Tristan in bed, but he had to pick up a few things from the office and face his brother.

Miles was met with many stares from his employees as he walked through Hollingsworth Construction Headquarters, his staff no doubt taking notice to the bruise and cut on his forehead. He headed straight to his office, gathering up some paperwork to take with him before sitting down behind his desktop to check his email.

Miles was halfway through his inbox when Hunter opened the door, stepping into his office, closing the door behind him, and sitting in the chair across from him. Miles finished typing the email he was working on before looking up, Hunter’s face unreadable as he took in his wounds.

“Look, Hunter. I’m sorry about cancelling the meeting yesterday.”

Hunter’s eyebrows screwed together. “Well, clearly we needed to. You didn’t tell me you got your face bashed in.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s not like you gave me the chance.”

Hunter shook his head, scoffing. “You can’t come to work looking like that. It’s unprofessional, Miles. Did the staff see you?”

Miles slammed his hand down on the wooden desk. “Who cares!” Hunter glared at him in disbelief and Miles lowered his voice. “Jesus, your not even going to ask me what happened? I did what I had to do and cancelled the CSIS meeting yesterday. Now, I’m just going to finish these emails and be on my way and I’ll see you on Monday.”

“What about Thanksgiving?” Hunter questioned.

“I’m not going,” Miles replied bluntly.

Hunter’s eyes softened, his lips quivering as he tried to voice what he had to ask. “It wasn’t—Dad didn’t do this, did he, Miles?”

Miles shook his head. “No, it wasn’t Dad.” He sighed. “I was defending Tristan against his ex-boyfriend. Tristan’s actually a lot worse than I am.”

Hunter sat back in his chair and cleared his throat. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s okay. But, I’m going to go with him to visit his brother in Mississauga for Thanksgiving. You and Franks can hold down the fort at the mansion, right?” Miles gave a small smile, trying to mend fences.

Hunter shrugged. “Yeah, we can handle it. And be ready for the CSIS meeting when you get back.” He rose from his chair, opening the door to exit Miles’ office. 

“Hey, Hunter,” Miles spoke causing Hunter to turn back around. “Happy Thanksgiving. I love you, lil bro.” Miles grinned. His brother could be a real ass, but he’d still miss spending Thanksgiving with him. They were family, after all.

Hunter tried to fight the smile that was creeping onto his face. “Yeah, yeah. Love you, too,” he responded before leaving Miles to finish his emails and head back home to Tristan.


	12. Meet the Brother

Miles couldn’t be happier. The sun was out and shining, given it was still below freezing outside, and Miles was gladly sporting his newly purchased Ray Bans as he soaked up as much Vitamin D filtering through the windows of his BMW as he could. All of the drama and stress in his life from the past few days was slipping away with each mile he put between himself and Toronto. 

Miles drummed his fingers against his steering wheel in tempo to the song playing at a low volume through the speakers, nearly bouncing in his seat as he drove. It didn’t even dampen his mood when he inevitably hit traffic on the highway, as everyone was trying to leave the city for the holiday. Miles had grown used to being stuck bumper to bumper in a bottleneck, simply because he was forced to drive in downtown Toronto during rush hour every morning. The drive to Mississauga should only be a half hour from Toronto, but with a traffic jam like they were experiencing, it looked to be a lot longer.

Tristan was in the passenger seat, settled in with an open bag of chips, a notebook and a packet of papers in his lap, chewing anxiously on a pen as he read what was in front of him. He was taking the time to get some work done for the theatre, but didn’t seem to be making any headway as he flipped aggressively back and forth through the stapled papers, sighing and muttering to himself during the process.

Miles finally couldn’t take it anymore when Tristan began frantically tapping his pen against his notebook, Miles glancing at him from the corner of his eye. “Tristan.” No answer. Tristan was zoned in on whatever he was reading, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth and eyebrows furrowed together. Miles tried again, louder. “Tristan.”

Tristan stopped tapping and looked up from his notebook, turning his head to look at Miles. “Hm?” His eyes were blank, still distracted with thoughts on whatever he was reading.

Miles smiled at Tristan’s oblivious expression. “What are you working on?” he prompted.

Tristan took a breath, relaxing his shoulders and gave Miles a soft smile before glancing back to his notebook. “The script for the new play I’m supposed to teach my actors.”

Miles held back a laugh. “Now, why does a script have you looking like you’re going to scratch your eyes out over there?” Tristan looked over sheepishly, setting down his pen, as Miles continued. “This trip is supposed to be relaxing, Tris. I can’t have you spontaneously combusting on my watch.”

“Hey, you get the same way whenever you check your inbox.. and your voicemail,” Tristan teased, bringing a smile to Miles’ face.

Miles glanced away from the road to look at Tristan. “Well, that’s because I have a bunch of idiots working for me that can’t do their job correctly,” he humored.

Tristan looked back down at the script in his lap, reaching for a chip to eat. “Turns out our problems are similar, except mine are idiot play writers that expect me to teach my actors this garbage.” Tristan gestured forcefully with his hand to the papers as he finished chewing. “Like this ending, for example,” Tristan flipped the page. “The actors are never going to be able to learn this crap. It’s way too complicated. I’m even having trouble following it on paper.”

Miles took a hand off the steering wheel, reaching over to place it on the back of Tristan’s neck, massaging the tense muscle there. Tristan was way too worked up over this and needed to just take a deep breathe. “Then, change it.”

Tristan didn’t glance up from the script, however Miles felt his shoulders soften under his touch. “What?”

“Change it,” Miles repeated, continuing his ministrations along Tristan’s neck.

Tristan looked up then, his eyebrows back to being furrowed together. “Wha—  
I can’t just change it.”

“Why not?” Miles pressed, cocking an eyebrow at his bemused boyfriend.

“Because the theatre hired people to write this script. I’m just an acting coach. I can’t—”

Miles cut Tristan off. “Of course you can. Sometimes things don’t go as expected and changes need to be made for the better. The play writers will get over it.”

“If only it were that easy,” Tristan mused, resting his head against the seat as Miles pulled his hand back.

“But it is,” Miles urged. “Just cut the ending. Revise the script.”

Tristan stared down at the script in front of him, mulling it over. After a pause of contemplation, he gave in. “You know what, you’re right.” Tristan picked up his pen and began crossing out a big portion of the page before scrawling ‘Script Revision’ in the header. “Fuck it.” He underlined the words with a flick of the pen, ink settling deep into the paper.

Miles chuckled, loving every second of seeing Tristan fight for himself. “That’s my boy.”

Tristan set his pen down and looked at Miles, mirroring his smile. He leaned over pressing a quick kiss to Miles’ cheek, just as the Ontario traffic began to clear up.

 

Owen Milligan lived on a suburban street in Mississauga where all of the houses looked practically identical. They were all decently sized with big grass lawns, brick style housing, and two door garages. Tristan looked out the window, directing Miles to which house was Owen’s, the smile growing wider on his face as they neared.

Miles parked on the street in front of the house, both boys getting out to grab their bags and head to the door. Tristan rang the doorbell eagerly, Miles hanging behind him slightly.

It wasn’t like Miles was nervous to meet Owen. Okay, maybe he was a little. He just wasn’t sure how Tristan’s older brother would react to their relationship, especially given the recent run in with James. It was only fair, however, for Miles to deal with the uncomfortable feeling of meeting Tristan’s family given Tristan had already put up with Miles’ deranged siblings and broken parental figures.

A blonde-haired woman answered the door, dressed in a loose sweater and jeans with a sippy cup in hand, looking like a housewife. Miles concluded this must be Owen’s wife. “Hello, hello!” she greeted in a high-pitched voice, pulling Tristan into a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Hi, Kate,” Tristan addressed, returning the hug and stepping into the house as the woman welcomed them in. “Thank you for having us.”

Miles took a deep breath, following Tristan inside. “Oh, it’s no problem at all,” Kate reassured them, looking at Miles with a friendly smile.

A toddler running full-fledged into the room, heading straight for Tristan, interrupted them. “Uncle Tristan!” he screamed in a lisp, jumping into Tristan’s open arms. This was the nephew Tristan constantly gushed about, Miles knowing he loved the child dearly.

“Hey, kiddo.” Tristan lifted the little boy, who swung his legs around Tristan’s body, keen on embracing his Uncle. Tristan bit back a wince at the pressure on his ribs, Miles’ eyes going wide in concern.

“Zachary, get down. You’re hurting your Uncle,” a hard voice cut through, all eyes looking up to find Owen Milligan descending the stairs. He was bigger than Miles imagined with huge, defined muscles, dressed like he just rolled out of bed, his brown hair unkempt. 

Tristan set his nephew on the ground, the boy still bouncing in excitement next to his Uncle. “Zach, behave,” Kate ordered, reaching out to run a hand through her energetic son’s dirty blonde locks.

“Okay?” Miles asked lowly as he nudged Tristan’s hand, still worried about his bruised ribs. Tristan looked up and nodded, taking Miles’ hand to intertwine their fingers.

“This is Miles,” Tristan introduced him, Kate and Owen already having a pretty good idea of who he was. Owen extended his hand, Miles taking hold of his strong grip to shake. Owen then moved on to hug his brother, while Kate asked Miles about their travels. 

They moved into the living room, everyone chatting mindlessly, catching up. No one made comment about Tristan’s injuries that is until the little boy crawled into Tristan’s lap on the sofa and pointed at his bruises. “Why do you have boo boo’s?” he questioned, his small face turning into a frown.

Tristan chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. “That’s what happens when you don’t wear a helmet when you ride your bike,” Owen responded instead, Tristan rolling his eyes and the whole room breaking into short-lived dry laughter. Zach stared dumbfounded at Tristan before sliding off his lap and returning to playing with his toy trucks on the area rug. 

Owen met Miles’ eyes wordlessly after taking in his brother’s face, his expression one of worry and almost accusatory. Miles looked away quickly, Owen’s facial expression confusing the hell out of him and very intimidating, to say the least.

 

Miles found the whole evening to be completely overwhelming, his whole body exhausted as night fell. It was hard to keep up with the conversations between the family and Miles felt very out of place throughout the late afternoon. His mind kept wandering back to that look Owen gave him, not being able to place what the elder Milligan thought of him.

As Owen and Kate retreated upstairs to put their son to bed, Tristan brought Miles to the guest room where they would be staying the night. It was a quaint room on the far side of the upstairs floor, with a double bed and adjoining bathroom.

Tristan shut the door behind them, leaning against the doorknob as he turned around to look at Miles expectantly, wanting his opinion on the night’s events. Miles dropped his duffel bag on the bed, unzipping it to pull out a fresh pair of boxers, before finally looking up to meet Tristan’s gaze. “You mind if I take a shower?”

Tristan opened his mouth, stupefied. “Uh—No, go ahead. Is everything okay?”

Miles kicked himself internally for acting like something was wrong. He had been quiet all night, the feeling of uncertainty eating him inside; unsure of the vibes Owen was sending him. The last thing he wanted was to upset Tristan, but he needed some time to compose himself.

“Yeah. I just—I’ll be right out, okay?” Miles stuttered. Tristan nodded hesitantly and Miles turned to disappear into the bathroom.

The steaming shower helped relieve the aching feeling in Miles’ body as he scrubbed his skin until it was raw. He showered longer than he normally would, unable to separate himself from the scalding water. Eventually, Miles reluctantly pulled back the curtain, shutting off the water and stepping out of the bathtub to dry off.

When a more relaxed Miles reemerged from the bathroom, clad in boxers and toweling his hair, Tristan was nowhere to be found. Miles dressed quickly before leaving the guest room in search of his boyfriend.

He found Tristan alone in the kitchen, standing in front of the counter, eating ice cream out of the tub with a spoon. Miles smiled at the sight, sneaking up behind his boyfriend to wrap his arms around him. Tristan jumped slightly at the touch, having not heard Miles enter the room, before relaxing into his arms. “I’m sorry,” Miles whispered into Tristan’s neck before kissing along his throat.

Tristan swallowed a mouthful of ice cream, tilting his neck to the side to give Miles more room. Miles continued pressing soft kisses to Tristan’s skin, before taking him by the waist and turning him around in his arms.

Tristan looked at Miles, not saying anything for a moment as their gazes locked. “You can’t—Don’t shut me out, Miles,” Tristan whispered, breaking the silence as he toyed with the spoon in his hand.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Miles apologized as Tristan turned back to the tub of ice cream, digging another spoonful. “Today has just been so inundating. I didn’t know how to handle it and I’m sorry.”

Tristan ate his ice cream, listening as Miles tried to explain. “Look,” Tristan placed a hand on Miles’ arm, rubbing it softly. “I know you’re swamped with meeting my brother, but you have nothing to prove to him. You’re the perfect boyfriend and by the time we leave here, he’ll see that. Please, just try to unwind a little.”

Miles thought it over, knowing every word that came out of Tristan’s mouth was true. He smiled at his lover, reaching to take the spoon out of his hand. “Some ice cream might help,” he attempted to soften the mood.

Tristan chuckled as Miles took a step towards the counter, spooning out some ice cream from the tub and eating it. They passed the spoon back and forth a couple of times, enjoying the cold treat.

Tristan set the spoon in the tub, suddenly laughing at Miles’ face before him. “What’s so funny?” Miles asked, his own face breaking into a smile at his boyfriend’s amusement.

“You have ice cream on your face,” Tristan giggled more, watching Miles’ tongue dart out and lick the corner of his mouth. Tristan continued to laugh as he missed the spot, Tristan’s eyes darkening slightly at the sight of Miles’ tongue. 

“Come here,” Tristan caved, pulling Miles’ face close in between his hands, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the side of his mouth to wipe off the ice cream. Miles’ face remained close as he watched Tristan’s laughter subside, both of their eyes twitching to each other’s lips.

Tristan closed the distance, kissing Miles and plunging his tongue deep into his throat, framing his face with his hands. Miles grunted, stepping forward to pin Tristan against the counter, holding him by the waist. Miles angled his head to kiss Tristan deeper, their tongues moving insistently together as they made out.

“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat behind them, Miles and Tristan jumping and immediately separating. Miles stepped to the side, wiping his mouth as he turned to find Owen staring wide-eyed at the two of them. Miles sighed. With just his luck, Owen _would catch _Miles shoving his tongue down his little brother’s throat.__

“We were just…” Tristan started but trailed off, realizing his brother did not want to know. He bit back a smile.

“Well, I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight Owen,” Miles retreated upstairs as fast as he could, wanting to get away from the awkward situation as quickly as possible. That would be the last time he kissed Tristan in open doors under Owen Milligan’s roof.

It wasn’t until Miles was halfway up the stairs that he realized he forgot to grab some water before bed. Miles cursed himself internally as he headed back down the stairs, hovering next to the kitchen doorway as he debated whether or not to reenter the awkward situation.

Miles’ internal debate was interrupted when he overheard his name in the conversation happening in the kitchen. He pressed up against the wall, knowing very well he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but couldn’t resist listening in.

“So you’re serious about this Miles?” Owen’s rough voice filtered through the wall as he interrogated Tristan.

“As serious as ever,” came Tristan’s muffled reply.

“He just happened to show up the other night and save your ass when James was pummeling you?” Owen questioned. Miles’ eyebrows furrowed together, not liking Owen’s suspicious tone.

Tristan chuckled dryly. “Yeah, something like that.”

“This isn’t funny, Tristan. I mean look at you,” Owen’s voice was forceful, Miles knowing damn well he was gesturing to Tristan’s beaten and bruised face.

“Fuck, Owen. I know,” Tristan was angry, his voice rising. “It would have been a whole lot worse if Miles hadn’t showed up, so stop acting like he’s the bad guy here! He takes care of me. He’s good for me. Why can’t you see that?”

“What, Trist, are you in love with him?” Owen’s tone was softer, but sort of disbelieving.

There was a long pause as Miles stood frozen, his heart in his throat as he waited for Tristan to respond.

Finally, Tristan spoke at a low volume. “Yeah, maybe I am in love with him. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Do you even really know this guy? It’s too soon,” Owen reacted bluntly. 

“Don’t tell me what’s too soon!” Tristan snapped. Miles could almost hear him take a breath to calm himself. “What he and I have is the real deal. Miles is it for me.” Miles overheard the freezer door slam shut. “Just give him a chance, Owen.”

Miles didn’t wait around to hear Owen’s response, not wanting to chance being caught eavesdropping. He bolted up the stairs, heading into the guest room. Screw his water. Miles couldn’t help the butterflies he felt deep in his stomach as he replayed Tristan’s words over and over again. He flopped down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling with the stupidest grin plastered across his face.

Tristan Milligan was in love with him.

 

Miles blinked awake the following morning, squinting at the sunlight shining through the window to his left. He flipped onto his stomach, burying his head into his pillow as he reached for Tristan beside him, fully intending on cuddling him. 

Except his boyfriend wasn’t in bed with him, Miles’ hand only finding the empty sheets. He sat up with a groan, rubbing his eyes, feeling well rested. It seemed like he got a good night’s sleep, waking up on his own terms rather than his alarm for once.

Miles picked up his phone from the bedside table, checking the time. It was nearly eleven, Miles having slept in pretty late. No wonder he didn’t feel the morning grogginess that usually accompanied him.

Miles dressed quickly in khakis and a button-up shirt, slightly embarrassed that he had slept so late on Thanksgiving. As he walked down the hallway, heading downstairs, he heard inaudible laughter and conversations coming from the first floor. Miles remembered Owen’s in-laws and some of Kate’s extended family would be joining them for Thanksgiving. He mentally prepared himself to talk and interact with random strangers as he headed into the kitchen.

Like Miles predicted, the kitchen was filled with several people milling around, talking and drinking. The smell of turkey and stuffing wafted throughout the room, Kate standing by the oven, seeming to be setting a timer. Miles was met with many welcoming smiles as he glanced around the room, seeking Tristan.

He walked into the living room, finding the same scene of multiple people hanging out, their noisy conversations filling the room. There were children playing with each other, running from room to room, Miles recognizing Zachary as one of them. It was unusual for Miles to be a part of such a big family gathering. He was used to just spending holidays with his parents and the twins.

Tristan walked into the room from the den, Owen right behind him, both holding beers and laughing with each other. Miles was glad to see they had made up from the heated conversation he overheard them having the night before. Tristan’s eyes landed on Miles and he smiled, making his way over to him.

“Hey, you,” Tristan greeted, wrapping a casual arm around Miles’ shoulders. “Did you just wake up?”

Miles nodded, smiling goofily at his boyfriend. “How come you didn’t wake me?”

“Because you deserved to sleep in,” Tristan stated matter-of-factly. He pulled Miles closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek, before disentangling. “I’ll go grab you a beer.”

 

The whole Thanksgiving Day appeared kind of crazy. Tristan seemed to be on babysitting duty, playing with the kids, especially his nephew, while others cooked and socialized. Kate was running the kitchen, slaving herself to create a mouth-watering meal, whereas Owen watched the football game on TV with his brother-in-laws.

Miles stuck by Tristan in the beginning, but soon began to venture about the house, talking with Kate’s relatives. Most of them asked what he did for a living, which brought up Hollingsworth Construction, and the conversations just never seemed to end from there. Every now and then, Miles caught Tristan watching him interact and they’d share a smile.

Dinner was chaotic, to say the least, as everyone grabbed food and huddled around the too-small dining room table. However, the very casual Thanksgiving at the Milligan house was comforting to Miles, and he soon found himself fitting right in.

After the feast, the house seemed to calm down as some helped clean up and others filtered into the living room to relax through their food coma. Tristan returned from the kitchen, finding Miles sitting on the floor with Zach, bumping toy cars with him. Tristan placed a hand on Miles’ shoulder, causing him to look up, the sweetest smile stretched across Tristan’s face. “You wanna go for a walk?” he asked.

Miles nodded, standing up and taking Tristan’s hand as he led him out of the room. They put on their jackets, Tristan slipping a knit ski cap on his head, before they were out the door and walking down the street on the sidewalk.

The walk was peaceful at dusk, their hands intertwining and shoulders brushing together as they made their way through the neighborhood in the chilly air. Miles was unsure of where they were headed, but Tristan seemed to have a destination in mind.

It wasn’t until they reached a dead end and Tristan began leading him through an opening in the woods, that Miles voiced his concern. The woods were dusky, the tall trees blocking the light, and there was the sound of flowing water in the distance, maybe a river. “Is this where you tell me you’re not really my boyfriend and murder me for my fortune?” Miles joked.

Tristan laughed, punching Miles lightly in the shoulder. “Shut up. We’re almost there.”

In another hundred meters, the brush opened up revealing a small waterfall, surrounded by rocks covered in bright green moss. Miles stepped closer, finding the whole panorama kind of beautiful, as small as it was.

Tristan pulled Miles to a nearby boulder by the waterfall to sit, away from the spray of the water. “Thought you’d need a break from all the crazy.” Tristan snuggled closer to Miles’ arm, leaning his head on his shoulder.

Miles smiled, watching the waterfall in awe. “Eh, it’s not too bad. Everyone’s nice and easy to talk to.”

“Yeah?” Tristan wondered, receiving a nod from Miles in response. They sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying the fall. “I used to come here all the time back when I was living with Owen, after James. This was my thinking spot.”

Miles turned to look at Tristan, wrapping an arm around the other boy and pulling him closer. He felt a twinge in his chest at the thought of Tristan sharing this spot with him, the spot where he’d gone after he was damaged and needed comfort. Miles leaned in, kissing the top of Tristan’s hairline, nuzzling his head and breathing the other boy in. He always loved the familiar smell of Tristan, vanilla with a hint of aftershave.

The boys basked in the calmness for a while longer, listening to each other’s breaths above the waterfall, until they both grew too cold. They stood up, preparing to leave, but Tristan stopped Miles, grabbing onto his jacket, before he could start heading back up the path. “Hey, I got a surprise before we go back.”

Miles raised his eyebrows; not having a clue what Tristan was getting at. He watched Tristan reach into his coat pocket, pulling out a plastic Ziploc bag filled with two square brownies. Miles felt his eyes go wide, biting back a laugh, the similar bag looking all too memorable to him. “Tristan, are those pot brownies?”

Tristan laughed, unzipping the bag. “Yeah, one of Kate’s brothers gave them to me.”

Miles didn’t know whether to be shocked or concerned. “Wait, Tris, they could be laced.”

Tristan turned away from Miles abruptly. “Fine, more for me,” he teased.

Miles raced around in front of Tristan, “Wait, no—I want in,” he reached for the bag, Tristan pulling it out of his reach. “So, what’s the plan? Get stoned and head back to your brother’s?” Something about that sounded enticing to Miles.

Tristan cocked an eyebrow as he pulled out one of the brownies. “You in or you out, Hollingsworth?”

Miles watched Tristan take a bite, seizing the bag out of his other hand. “I’m in,” Miles answered, pulling out his own brownie and shoving the empty plastic bag in his jacket.

The two boys scarfed down their pot brownies and just thirty minutes later they were heading out of the woods, reaching the street just as the sun set. They walked back to Owen’s house, Miles feeling the high settle over him, his whole body tingling and weightless. He watched Tristan walk on the curb, one foot in front of the other with his arms held out like wings, giggling every time he lost balance. It was a good thing Owen lived in a residential area without any busy roads, only the occasional car driving past. 

When they finally made it back to Owen’s, Tristan stopped Miles from walking up the front steps to pull him into a kiss. The kiss was languid with slow, wet tongues and sucking lips. They were both too stoned to do much else than suck face lazily, hands wandering idly on cold exposed skin. Miles was the first to pull back, needing to catch his breath, and Tristan immediately laughed at him. Miles gave him one more wet kiss before dragging him into the house.

Mostly everyone had cleared out, only a couple people still left, chatting with Kate in the living room. Tristan plopped down on the couch, asking Miles politely to get him a beer.

Miles entered the kitchen, opening the fridge to fetch a beer bottle. When he straightened up, Miles was surprised to find Owen, tying the trash bag in the corner of the kitchen. They made eye contact and Miles quickly dropped his gaze, moving to pop the cap off the beer with a bottle opener. 

Owen pulled the trash bag out of the can, picking it up and crossing the room towards the back door. “Miles, a word?” he asked, gesturing with his head outside, Miles swallowing hard before nodding.

He followed Owen through the back door and onto the porch, lit by a couple lamps surrounding the entryway. Owen walked down the porch steps to toss the trash in the garbage can, Miles sidling up to lean against the white wooden railing surrounding the porch.

When Owen walked back up the steps, he came to stand next to Miles, clearing his throat before he began. “So you and my brother, huh?”

Miles bit his lip, his face creeping into a smile as he tried to hold in a laugh at the stupid question. He failed, looking down and shaking his head as he chuckled. There was no way he could have a serious conversation with Owen while he was stoned.

Owen glared at him, clearly not understanding what was so amusing. He took in Miles’ glassy, bloodshot eyes and sighed. “I take it you ate some of Ronnie’s brownies.”

Miles laughed more, nodding. “They were quite good.”

“Tristan sure knows how to pick them,” Owen muttered sarcastically under his breath, catching Miles’ attention. Owen spoke up before Miles could. “Look, you seem to have your life all figured out, running your business. I don’t want Tristan to become too invested and end up getting hurt because you have more important priorities.”

Miles took in what Owen was saying, it all sounding all too familiar from his last relationship. But, so much was different this time. “Tristan is the most important thing to me right now. He comes first, no matter what, so you don’t have to worry about my other priorities coming between us.”

Owen was quiet, shifting from foot to foot as he listened to Miles. “My brother’s been through a lot. If you ever fucking hurt him, I will end you.” Owen’s voice was harsh and unwavering, his threat sending chills down Miles’ spine. He knew it was Owen’s job to look out for his little brother, to protect him.

“I’m not James. I’d never hurt him,” Miles spoke confidently, trying to make his intentions clear.

“Better not,” Owen said. “Because you won’t get away with it.”

The only thing Miles could do was nod. “Okay,” he responded before Owen was barging back into the house, leaving Miles stunned on the back porch, staring into the grass backyard.

Miles returned to Tristan’s side, making the most of the rest of their trip in Mississauga, promising to himself to follow Owen’s words and spend every day making his boyfriend happy.


	13. All the Little Things

As far as Miles was concerned, Mondays sucked. There was nothing worse than having to leave the warmth of his bed early on a Monday morning, just to head into work after a long weekend. Miles dreaded leaving Mississauga with Tristan and returning home just to jump back into his hectic work schedule. He had savored every minute of being away from the city with Tristan; every moment he could forget what awaited them back home.

Tristan had tried to point out the benefits of returning to Miles’ desolate apartment as he fucked him deep and hard the night before, Miles undoubtedly feeling the aching after effects the following morning. He had to say Tristan was very convincing in proving his point. The major downside of visiting Tristan’s brother was the lack of privacy, and therefore lack of sex and intimacy between the two.

However, that detail was not present in Miles’ mind as he begun the week at the CSIS jobsite, standing under a tower crane in the brisk morning air beside his brother, both wearing matching hardhats with the HCC logo printed across the front.

Their rescheduled meeting with the CSIS representatives had been moved onto the construction site, much to Miles’ disapproval. It was bad enough waking up early to sit in his office. The last thing he wanted to be doing was standing outside in the freezing cold talking to his biggest clients.

Yet here he was, watching Hunter chat with the on-site contractor as they waited for the CSIS reps to show up. Miles had his hands buried into the pockets of his winter jacket, chewing on his lip to keep his teeth from chattering. He wasn’t looking forward to having to suck up to his clients after unexpectedly cancelling the meeting last week. At least the bruise on his forehead had mostly cleared up, only leaving a yellowish mark surrounding the healing slice in his skin.

Miles’ phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to check the good morning text from Tristan. It brought a small smile to his face as he read the short message followed by several emojis. Tristan was lucky enough to not have to go to work till ten, Miles leaving him fast asleep in his bed this morning with a spare key on the nightstand for Tristan to lock up when he left.

“Mr. Hollingsworth,” a deep voice called out, causing both Miles and Hunter to turn, Miles quickly pocketing his phone. A black escalade had pulled up to the jobsite, three CSIS reps getting out and walking towards the boys, the tallest greeting them. Miles and Hunter exchanged hellos and shook hands with each of the reps as they joined them.

They continued on to tour the jobsite, Miles and Hunter describing the construction happening so that their clients would know what they were looking at. They rounded each corner of the building structure going over the plans for the project that were signed off in the contract and relative deadlines. 

It took almost an hour until they made it back to their starting point. “And here is where the entrance to the building will be,” Miles gestured with his hands, laying out what the finished project will look like in his head.

The CSIS representatives considered the steal beams arranged around the doorway for a couple moments before one spoke up. “We’re concerned with the entry way to the building being a little tight. Is there any way we can expand the entrance out a little bit?” He motioned with his hands how he envisioned the walls coming straight out before closing in at the door.

Miles kicked himself internally. Of course the request seemed reasonable since the overall square shape of the building left little room for an official entrance. However, reworking the front of the building meant adding to the contract, which was always a pain in the ass. Miles hoped this was his client’s only request and they wouldn’t be making endless changes in the future. It drove him crazy when he was forced to constantly please a client that was bent on making his work harder than it already was. 

Fortunately, Hunter cut in before Miles could pull together a fake smile and respond. “Yes, we could add an additional hundred square feet to open it up a little. We need an okay from the planning board and to reissue the contract, but I don’t see a problem,” Hunter said.

The delegates all nodded in approval, so Hunter continued. “I’ll have our architect draw something up and send it over.”

They discussed the details for a little while longer, Hunter promising CSIS to have the new contract and additional cost sent to them before the New Year. After they had covered everything, the CSIS reps and Hollingsworth’s parted ways. Miles and Hunter stayed on the jobsite for a little longer, checking progress with the on-site construction workers and supervisors before returning to the office.

“Can you handle the contract and make sure it gets to CSIS before Christmas?” Hunter asked his brother, already calling their architect. He pressed his cellphone up to his ear as it rang. 

Miles held the door open for Hunter as they entered HCC headquarters. “Yeah, I got it.” Amanda, their receptionist, greeted them as they came in, Miles stopping to hang by her desk.

Hunter groaned as the call went to voicemail and hung up. “Make sure to double check your numbers. We don’t need them screwing us out of any more money.”

Miles chuckled. “I can handle it, Hunter.” Hunter nodded, seeming unsure before continuing down the hall to his office, his cell phone back to his ear before he was out of sight.

Miles turned to Amanda, catching the amused smile across her face. “How’d the meeting go?” she asked.

Miles shrugged. “Okay, I guess. How was your Thanksgiving?”

“Good. And yours?” She tapped her forehead, right above her brow. “That looks better.”

Miles recalled the last time he saw Amanda at the office, right before he headed out to Mississauga last week. He raised his eyebrow, feeling the slight twinge as it pulled at his cut and bruise. “Getting there,” he commented.

“So, the company Christmas party is December 16th, right?” Miles asked. “I’d ask Hunter, but I know he’ll give me grief for forgetting the day.” 

Every year at Christmas, Hollingsworth Construction rented out a bar and threw a huge party for all their employees. It was pretty much the only day outside of staff meetings, that everyone in the company was together. It was formal, with everyone’s significant others in attendance. Basically, the party was an excuse for the whole company to get drunk and Miles and Hunter both gave speeches about how much of a successful year HCC had.

Amanda laughed. “Jesus, Miles, what would you do without me? Yes, it’s Friday, the 16th.”

Miles nodded. “Thank you.” He paused for a moment before asking, “Do you have an extra invitation by any chance?”

Amanda quirked an eyebrow at him, but opened the bottom drawer of her desk and rummaged through it. She produced a small piece of paper and held it out to him wordlessly. When Miles went to grab it, she pulled her hand back slightly, keeping it out of his reach. “Inviting someone special? Tristan, maybe?”

Miles rolled his eyes and reached forward to grab the invitation out of her hands. He’d never brought a boyfriend to the Christmas party before, writing it off as unprofessional, but he couldn’t stand the thought of being there without Tristan. “If you must know, yes.”

Amanda smiled, sitting back in her chair, and gave Miles a knowing look. Miles shook his head slightly, returning the smile, before heading to his office to finish his day’s work.

 

Miles had a late night at the office, the downside of having almost a week off, and didn’t make it back to his apartment till seven. He called Tristan on his way home, telling the other boy to meet him there.

Miles had just changed out of his work clothes into something more comfortable when he heard a knock on the door. He went to answer and pulled the door open, revealing a smiling Tristan.

Tristan stepped forward immediately, wrapping his arms around Miles’ neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Miles’ hands found Tristan’s waist and he shifted their bodies away from the door so he could close it. Tristan couldn’t stop smiling as he gave Miles a couple short kisses, slipping him a little tongue, before pulling back.

Miles stared at him for a moment, mirroring his smile. “I gave you a key for a reason, Tris. Why don’t you use it?” Miles referenced his knock on the door.

Tristan reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the small key that Miles had left for him this morning. “I thought you’d want it back.”

Miles shook his head. “It’s for you to keep. You can come here whenever you want.” He watched Tristan’s smile grow impossibly wider as he re-pocketed the key. “If you ever feel uncomfortable going back to your apartment alone, you come here,” Miles stressed, remembering the events that had happened with James outside of Tristan’s apartment and how much worse it could have been if he hadn’t showed up.

Tristan leaned back in to kiss Miles again, cupping his face with his hands. “You’re the best, you know that?” Tristan spoke against his lips.

“Hm,” was all Miles responded as he kissed Tristan again, pulling the other boys bottom lip in between his teeth.

When they finally separated, Miles headed to the kitchen to see what he could scrounge up for dinner. “How was your meeting?” Tristan asked as he followed him to the kitchen and took a seat at the breakfast bar.

“It went okay. They’re making us expand the building and change the contract slightly, which sucks, but at least they seem satisfied.” Miles opened the fridge to look inside and closed it when he realized it was nearly empty. He turned back to Tristan.

“And Hunter?” Tristan asked as Miles leaned on the counter in front of him.

“Er, same old Hunter. He didn’t seem as stressed today,” Miles shrugged. “How was work for you?”

Tristan’s grin spread. “Guess who’s the new director of the play?” He pointed at his chest with his thumb, not giving Miles a chance to answer.

Miles’ eyes widened as he put two and two together. “What? Tristan, that’s great!” He rounded the counter so he could lift Tristan out of the stool and hug him. 

Tristan laughed, wrapping his legs around the other boy to stay up and burying his hands in Miles’ hair. “They loved what I did with the ending of the script and they want me to direct it. It’s all thanks to you.”

Miles shook his head, leaning in to kiss Tristan. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be amazing.” He knew this was something Tristan really wanted and couldn’t be happier to see the unwavering smile across his boyfriend’s face. “We should go celebrate.” Miles slid his hands from Tristan’s ass to his waist, lowering the boy to the ground as Tristan dropped his legs.

Tristan answered by pulling Miles into a searing kiss, pressing their bodies impossibly closer together. Tristan’s eyes darkened when their lips finally detached and they both gasped for air. “The only celebrating I want to do is in your bedroom.”

Miles laughed, taking Tristan’s hand and leading the way down the hall to his bedroom. They wasted no time stripping out of their clothes as quickly as possible before reconnecting, Miles pulling Tristan on top of him as he fell back onto the bed.

Tristan pressed Miles down into the mattress with his tongue in his mouth as he slowly ground against him. Miles was lost in the heat of Tristan’s mouth and his dick sliding against his, but Miles’ brain finally caught up with him and he pushed Tristan back softly. Tristan shot him an annoyed look at the interruption, but sat up willingly, straddling Miles’ waist. “How are your ribs?” Miles questioned.

Miles took in Tristan’s torso. The bruises looked a million times better than they had last week, fading to a light yellowish brown color as they healed. Miles trailed his eyes up to Tristan’s face, which was no longer swollen and only faired a few healing cuts. He was relieved to see Tristan was healing fast, but Miles didn’t want to do anything that would injure him more.

“I’m fine,” Tristan shut him down, growing impatient as he rocked against Miles. Miles shot him an unconvinced look. “Seriously,” Tristan added, leaning back down, his lips inches from Miles’. “Now, stop worrying. Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

Miles didn’t spare Tristan a response, yanking his head down into a kiss. He threaded his fingers through Tristan’s hair as they made out, bending his legs at the knees to frame Tristan’s body between his.

Tristan began kissing down Miles’ body, trailing his tongue down Miles’ neck, over a nipple, and down his stomach. He sucked a hickey into his hipbone, marking what’s his, as Miles gasped beneath him. 

Tristan swallowed Miles down, Miles’ hands tightening instinctively in Tristan’s hair as his breathing deepened. He watched Tristan’s perfect mouth surround his cock and bob up and down. It was the hottest thing Miles had ever seen and he threw his head back and moaned when Tristan’s mouth hollowed around him. He screwed his eyes shut, fisting Tristan’s hair, so close to being gone.

Tristan’s mouth left him momentarily and Miles thought he got the hint that he was about to end things way too quickly. But, Tristan’s mouth resumed right where he left off a moment later, all coherent thoughts leaving Miles’ mind. Miles felt Tristan’s hand move behind him, and a wet finger slip inside his hole in one go. Miles arched up into Tristan’s mouth, not expecting the finger behind him. 

Tristan quirked his finger just right and that was it. Miles exploded into Tristan’s mouth, Tristan choking at the unexpected cum hitting the back of his throat. He recovered quickly, sucking Miles down for all he was worth. Miles stuttered as his orgasm wafted over him.

Tristan pulled back with a laugh, pinching the inside of Miles’ thigh. “You suck,” he teased.

Miles groaned and swatted Tristan’s hand away. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to do that.” Tristan crawled up his body and hovered over him, looking down at Miles with a smile. “You’re just too good with that mouth.” Miles would have been embarrassed in any other circumstances for not being able to last, but this was with Tristan and if there was one guy that could make him comfortable, it was his boyfriend.

Tristan leaned down and kissed Miles’ nose. “You’re just going to have to make up for it.” Tristan closed the gap between their lips, kissing him languidly.

Miles let Tristan kiss him for a while before flipping them over and taking control. His hands traveled across Tristan’s body now that he was on top and he continued kissing the other boy senseless.

Miles eventually broke their kiss to crawl down the mattress. He settled between Tristan’s legs and blew him until Miles was ready to go again.

Tristan pulled Miles back up, fetched lube and a condom out of the nightstand, and prepared Miles, kissing him sloppily to distract him from the stretch of his fingers.

It wasn’t long before Tristan was pushing into him, sending all of Miles’ nerves haywire. Tristan took him apart slowly with each thrust, leaving Miles gasping into his mouth and scratching down his back. Neither of them lasted long, but it was absolutely perfect the way their bodies connected as they made love.

 

Seeing that Miles had absolutely no food in his apartment, Tristan convinced him to take a late night trip to the grocery store. Both of them were starving from the night’s earlier events and it made sense to restock Miles’ fridge for the week.

So they both threw on sweatpants and hoodies and drove to the nearest grocery store. Miles pushed the cart down the aisles, filling it with his usual shopping list of junk food. Tristan threw in a couple healthier foods, more for his own benefit, as Miles and his eating habits were already a lost cause.

“What do you want for dinner?” Miles asked as they headed to the pre-cooked section of the grocery store. Tristan ended up picking out some grilled chicken before they headed towards check out.

“You’re almost out of condoms,” Tristan commented, causing Miles to detour down the toiletries aisle.

“Can’t have that, now can we?” Miles smirked, stopping towards the back of the aisle where the boxes of condoms were. Tristan plucked one of the boxes off the shelf and tossed it in the cart. Miles eyed the box before speaking, “That will barely last us through the week.”

Tristan sighed looking at the shelves before selecting a box with a larger count and trading it for the one already in the cart. “Why do we even need them anymore?”

Miles watched Tristan’s brow furrow together in frustration. Tristan glanced at him before continuing, “I mean, I’m not fucking anyone else.”

The words took Miles off guard and he huffed a laugh. “You better not be.” Tristan turned back to the shelf, shaking his head slightly. “I didn’t know this was something you wanted,” Miles said.

“It’s not something you want?” Tristan asked, a twinge of doubt cracking through his voice. 

This conversation was about condoms, but had a much deeper underlying meaning of commitment. Miles had wrongfully assumed they had already established some sort of commitment, regardless of whether or not they were using condoms. He reached out to grab Tristan’s arm, tugging the other boy softly towards him. “Hey, look at me.” When Tristan looked up, his composure was lost as Miles saw a glimmer of sadness in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. Of course this is something I want.”

They were lost in each other’s eyes for a moment, before the sound of a cart rounding the corner broke their attention. Miles dropped his hand from Tristan as he looked up to see another shopper entering the aisle they were in. Miles started pushing their cart back towards check out, Tristan trailing beside him. “We’ll talk about it, okay?” 

Tristan nodded, placing his hand at the small of Miles’ back, curling his fingers in the fabric of Miles’ hoodie for a second, before letting go.

 

When they got back to Miles’ apartment, they unpacked the groceries and ate a late dinner in comfortable silence. Miles kept nudging Tristan with his foot while they ate, bringing the smile back onto his boyfriend’s face.

After cleaning the kitchen and loading the dishwasher, Tristan retreated to the living room to sit on the couch. Miles snagged the invitation he got from Amanda earlier and followed Tristan, sitting down as close as he could get to the other boy, to the point where he was practically in Tristan’s lap.

Tristan wrapped an arm around Miles’ waist as Miles turned to face him, propping his legs over the arm of the couch. Miles handed the invitation to Tristan and watched him read it over. Tristan rubbed his thumb over the HCC logo embossed at the top in gold. “Did you make this?” he asked with a smile.

Miles chuckled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tristan looked back down at the invitation as he laughed. “I’m just wondering. It’s a very nice invitation. Doesn’t seem like something you would be capable of making.”

Miles feigned he was offended, but couldn’t really keep the smile off his face. “I’m perfectly capable of making fancy party invitations for my company.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows. “So you made it?”

Miles dropped the act. “No, I’m not really involved in planning the company Christmas party. But, I’m still forced to go and I really want you there with me.”

Tristan dropped the invitation to the side of him and cupped Miles’ face to pull him closer. “God, you are such a dork sometimes.”

Miles pressed a kiss to Tristan’s waiting lips. “Does that mean you’ll come?”

“Of course.” And Tristan pulled him back in to kiss the smirk plastering his face away.


	14. The Good Part

“You ready?” Tristan asked as he stood in front of the mirror in Miles’ room, doing his tie and fixing his hair. They were getting ready for the Hollingsworth Construction Christmas party, and Tristan had caught on to Miles’ sour mood as soon as he came home from work.

“No,” came Miles’ blunt reply from the bed where he was slipping on his dress shoes, earning a look from Tristan through his reflection in the mirror. Although Miles was clearly in a bad mood, he couldn’t help but admire how hot Tristan looked in a suit, the jacket fitting perfectly over his shoulders.

Tristan made his way over to the bed, standing in front of Miles and reaching out to rub his arms. “Come on, its going to be fun,” he attempted to cheer him up.

Miles ran his tongue over his bottom lip and shook his head. “Trust me, it’s not.” Hunter had been on his case all week about finishing the updated contract for the CSIS. They got into a fight right before Miles left the office to get ready for the party. He was dreading seeing Hunter and having to pretend they were on good terms in front of his whole staff.

“Hunter will be fine once you get there, Miles. You just need to relax,” Tristan tried to reassure him. Miles sighed and nodded, clearly unconvinced. He watched Tristan pull out his phone and check the time before pocketing it. Tristan seemed to think something over before dropping to his knees in front of Miles. “Okay, one blow job, that’s it. We can’t be late.”

Before Miles could react, Tristan was reaching to undo his belt and yanking his dress pants down. He took Miles in his hand and sucked him down, Miles forgetting any worries about the night ahead of them as soon as his dick was surrounded by Tristan’s warm mouth.

 

Twenty minutes later, Miles lead the way into the bar that the company held the Christmas party at every year. It was already relatively crowded, Miles realizing he was slightly late, however no one seemed to notice the two of them slip in.

“I never asked you whether you were nervous,” Miles pointed out to Tristan as they looked around at the crowd of people. He noticed his brother in the corner with Frankie, Grace, and a couple of the executives, already with drinks in their hands.

“Why would I be nervous?” Tristan asked curiously. Grace caught their eye and waved them over.

Miles smiled. “You’re the boss’ boyfriend. You’re quite the talk around the office,” he mused. Tristan raised his eyebrows at that and Miles grabbed his hand, leading him over to the group of people.

Everyone greeted Miles with cheers and hugs, Hunter even clapping his brother on the shoulder, letting him know he was no longer pissed about the contract. Miles introduced Tristan to the execs and Amanda, who had wandered over to greet them.

They were all extremely friendly to Tristan, joking with him about how much of a hard ass Miles could be at work. Tristan got a kick out of everything they had to say about Miles.

“I’m stealing your boyfriend, Miles. We’re getting drinks,” Amanda announced, her arm already hooked around Tristan’s arm and pulling him towards the bar, Frankie right on her heels. Miles had known his receptionist would be dying to get to know Tristan. She had made it clear to Miles over the past couple of weeks how excited she was to officially get to meet him at the party.

Tristan looked at Miles in askance, and Miles gave a short nod that it was okay to go if he wanted. Most of the executives either followed them to the bar or dispersed to talk to other fellow employees, leaving only Miles, Grace, and Hunter.

A few members of the staff wandered over to chat with Miles and Hunter, complementing the party and what a year it’d been at HCC. They didn’t stick around long, retreating to refill their drinks.

Miles watched Amanda liquor up Tristan, the group taking multiple rounds of shots against the bar. Tristan seemed to be having a good time, talking animatedly with his employees.

“Wow, Tristan sure is a tank,” Grace observed, watching him knock back drinks. “I see why you like him so much.” Miles snorted, not really amused by Grace’s sarcastic remark. He knew Tristan wasn’t really a heavy drinker, so he was no doubt on his way to being wasted. “I think your receptionist is brainwashing him,” Grace commented with a laugh.

“You think they’re talking about me?” Miles questioned, watching Tristan laugh from across the room.

“Oh, yeah definitely,” Grace responded.

Hunter chuckled. “Dude, you need a drink.”

“Tell me about it,” Miles muttered under his breath.

Grace took one more sip of the beer in her hand before handing it over to Miles to finish. “How is Tristan doing anyways? I mean after that whole fiasco a few weeks ago with the ex-boyfriend.”

Miles took a sip from the bottle before answering. “He’s back to normal, as far as I can tell. Doesn’t really like talking about it, though.”

Grace hummed in understanding as Miles finished the beer. “Do you know what you’re going to say later?” Hunter asked, changing the subject and referring to the speech Miles had to give to everyone at the party. It was a traditional thing since they started the business, and Miles usually just bull shitted his way through it.

“Yes, of course,” Miles said and Hunter looked at him disbelieving. “It’s all up here,” Miles tapped his temple and shot his brother a shit-eating grin. Hunter was clearly unimpressed so Miles ignored him, returning his attention back to his boyfriend.

Miles set out for the bar, sidling up next to Tristan and Amanda and taking notice to the empty shot glasses littering the bar top around them. Tristan turned towards him, face lighting up as his eyes landed on Miles. “Hey, there he is!” Tristan laughed, face flushed from the alcohol, draping an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“Here I am,” Miles said, glancing over at Amanda. “You two having fun?”

“Yeah, Tristan’s telling me all of your deepest darkest secrets,” Amanda teased. She waved over the bartender before Miles could even respond. “Take a shot with us, boss.”

The bartender came over and poured three shots and they downed them together. Miles ordered another beer as Amanda turned away to talk to one of the execs standing next to her. He took the opportunity to pull Tristan away from the bar.

“I’m drunk,” Tristan confessed through a giggle as Miles led him across the room towards an empty area against the wall.

“I can tell,” Miles said with a smile, letting go of Tristan’s hand and turning to face him, smelling the alcohol permeating from the other boy. Tristan was always a cute drunk, in Miles’ opinion.

“You’re not drunk,” Tristan said with a slight frown, eyes unfocused as they looked at Miles. He swayed slightly on his feet, and Miles stuck out a hand to steady him.

Miles shook his head amused. “I can’t till later. I have to give a speech about how great of a company I’m running.” Miles didn’t miss the hint of sarcasm in his own tone. “It’ll be no good if I’m half in the bag.”

Tristan smiled and Miles leaned in to give him a quick kiss. It took a moment for Tristan to find words. “Your employees are nice.”

“Yeah, some of them are. Others, like Amanda, that get my boyfriend drunk, aren’t very nice,” Miles joked. He knew his receptionist meant no harm and was glad to see Tristan having a good time, however he had a feeling Amanda was pushing the drinks on him.

Tristan’s brow furrowed together. “You don’t like me when I’m drunk?”

“No, I—” Miles stopped himself, wanting to say that he loved him no matter what, but knowing now wasn’t the right time to admit something like that. Instead he settled for, “You’re fine, Tris,” and leaned in to kiss the confusion off his face, tasting tequila on his tongue. The kiss was short lived; Miles knowing this wasn’t the place to be caught sucking face with his boyfriend.

Miles and Tristan made their rounds around the bar, talking to HCC’s contractors, superintendents, project managers, estimators, foremans, and coordinators. It always surprised Miles how many employees he actually had when they were all standing in one room together. The conversations were endless.

As it became later in the night, Miles called attention to the party so he could give his spiel.

“Thanks everyone for coming out tonight. You know, we throw this Christmas party every year as a way for us to all see each other out of the work setting. HCC would not be the company it is today without the employees standing in this room, and on behalf of my brother and I, we thank you for your hard work and dedication to the company.” Miles was used to public speaking by now, so the words came easy to him as he finally got going.

“So, over three years ago, Hunter came to me with this crazy idea to start a construction company.” Miles looked to Hunter, who flashed a smile, having heard him tell this story countless of times before. “And I told him there was no way. There was no way I was going into business with this kid that just graduated from college and had these unreasonable dreams about starting a company.” That earned a laugh from the crowd and Miles turned his gaze to Tristan, who was grinning up at him with that goofy drunken smile of his.

“But the thing about my brother is, he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants. He somehow persuaded me to take this huge leap with him and open Hollingsworth Construction. And let me tell you, it was one of the best decisions of my life.”

“Now, everyone here knows what a pain in the ass Hunter can be.” Employees chuckled around the room and Hunter shook his head, not mad but amused. “I mean it hasn’t been easy developing this company, especially with the endless disagreements I’ve had with my little brother. But, Hollingsworth Construction would not be the multi-million dollar company that it is today without Hunter’s insane optimism. We’ve scored our biggest project this year with CSIS, all thanks to Hunter.” The crowd of people hooted and hollered in support.

Miles turned back to look at his brother, a small smile creeping onto his face. He hated his guts sometimes, but he also loved him dearly. “Hunter, there is no one else I’d want to run a company with and thank you for everything you’ve put forth for this business. I could have never done it without you.” A couple of the staff members awed them, including Amanda who was leaning against the bar, holding her drink up.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Miles quieted them with a laugh. “Here’s to another successful year at HCC. Everyone, drink up.”

He wasn’t surprised at how fast the party broke into chatter and glass clinks as everyone poured more alcohol into their systems. Miles was glad to have the spotlight off of him as he headed towards his brother, pulling him into a short hug and clapping him on the back. “Does that make up for our argument before?”

Hunter chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so. As long as you have that updated contract in next week,” he reminded him. Miles rolled his eyes before agreeing and breaking away from his brother to go find Tristan. 

Tristan was waiting by the bar for him, lacing an arm around Miles’ waist as soon as he was close enough. “You never told me you were so good at speeches,” Tristan teased him, leaning in so that his mouth was only inches from Miles’.

“Oh, shut up,” Miles responded, closing the distance and slotting his lips with his boyfriend’s. When he pulled away, Miles turned towards the bar to order some drinks, something much stronger than beer. “My turn to get drunk,” he told Tristan.

The rest of the night kind of went by in a blur as Miles drank his weight in alcohol with Tristan right beside him. They had gotten a lot touchier throughout the night, Miles too drunk to care how unprofessional it looked to have his hands near Tristan’s crotch.

Somehow they took an Uber to Miles’ apartment and made it up the elevator before they started making out. It was biting lips and wet tongues as they made their way blindly down the hallway, pushing each other up against the walls with every opportunity.

They separated long enough for Miles to unlock his apartment door before Tristan was kissing him sloppily again and yanking at his clothes. They stumbled into Miles’ bedroom, taking off the remainder of their suits as fast as possible.

“I want you,” Tristan breathed as Miles pushed him back onto the mattress, climbing on top to hover over him. Miles couldn’t help but laugh as he looked down at Tristan, his vision kind of foggy. They were both so drunk.

“You already have me,” Miles promised, dropping his head to resume kissing Tristan, tongues tangling with each other as he trailed his hands down Tristan’s body, feeling him up. Tristan moaned into Miles’ mouth as Miles stroked his hard erection firmly.

Miles’ hand left Tristan to fumble in the nightstand drawer, a whine escaping Tristan’s lips at the lack of contact. Miles laughed and kissed him again, making the search in the nightstand a lot harder than it should be. “No condom,” Tristan spoke as their lips parted, Miles’ eyelids fluttering open.

Since their conversation a few weeks ago, they had both agreed to get tested to make sure there was nothing to worry about regarding protection. When their tests had come back all clear, it was only a matter of time for them to decide when to ditch the condoms. 

“Are you sure?” Miles asked as he retrieved the lube and closed the nightstand drawer.

“Yes. Now, get down here.” Tristan pulled Miles down by the back of his neck, bringing him into another heated kiss of messy tongues. Miles managed to get the cap to the lube off and slicked up his fingers, Tristan rolling them over so he was on top. He slipped a finger into Tristan before adding a second, stretching him out good, making sure he was fully prepped. Tristan grew impatient the longer Miles took and pulled his lips off Miles’. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Miles laughed, throwing his weight up as he let his fingers slide out of Tristan, flipping them over so Tristan had his back pressed into the mattress. He stroked himself a couple times with his lubed hand, before leaning down to kiss Tristan hungrily, lips trailing away from his mouth and down to his neck in wet hot suction. Tristan wrapped his legs around Miles, attempting to line himself up with Miles’ dick as best as possible.

“Wait,” Miles spoke, pulling back slightly to look down at Tristan, pupils blown in their drunken stupor. Tristan peered up at him, slight frustration through his grin as he was so horny and Miles was dragging this out. “Move in with me.”

Tristan’s eyebrows shot up and he laughed, pulling Miles back down by his waist so they were closer. “What?” he asked in disbelief.

Miles wasn’t even sure where it came from, but once the words were out, he wanted it more than anything. “Move in with me,” Miles repeated, dipping his head to continue kissing Tristan’s neck. He probably had the worst timing ever to bring up this conversation, but it didn’t lessen how badly he wanted to share his apartment with Tristan.

“You’re drunk,” Tristan concluded, still smiling as he moved his hand to slide into Miles’ brown hair.

“Mhm,” Miles mumbled in between kisses. “I’m drunk, but I still want you to move in with me.” He picked his head up to lock eyes with Tristan, mirroring his smile. “This apartment is way too quiet without you in it.”

“Really?” Tristan wondered, watching Miles nod his head. He flicked his eyes to Miles’ lips and Miles understood the silent request as he closed the space between them to kiss Tristan, this time slower but still just as deep. “I want to move in with you,” Tristan whispered as their lips separated.

“Good,” was Miles’ only response as he moved back in to make out with Tristan, the kissing becoming a lot more difficult as both boys couldn’t stop laughing. Miles eventually got them both to be quiet as he pushed into Tristan barebacked, bottoming out as he waited for Tristan to adjust, the other boy groaning beneath him.

“Move,” came Tristan’s quiet command and Miles pulled back to thrust back in, setting a quick and hard pace. Tristan was all but quiet as they fucked, releasing deep moans from the back of his throat that egged Miles on. They became a sweaty mess of limbs and heavy breathing as they lost themselves in each other. Miles loved the feeling without a condom, getting extra sensation as they made love.

Miles knew the exact moment he hit Tristan’s sweet spot, when Tristan’s hands fell to the mattress and twisted into the sheets, knuckles going white as he fisted. “Fuck, right there,” Tristan cried out, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. Miles continued pounding into his prostate, taking Tristan’s hands and threading his fingers between them beside Tristan’s head. “Miles, I— Fuck— I—.” Miles wasn’t sure why he did it, but he kissed Tristan to swallow the boy’s words. Maybe he was scared of what Tristan was about to say or just felt the strong urge to feel his lips against his.

When Miles was close, he reached in between them to stroke Tristan’s leaking cock, matching his jerks with his thrusts into Tristan. Tristan lost all sense of coherency as his orgasm came over him, spilling his load into Miles’ hand and clenching around his dick. The sudden pressure surrounding Miles sent him over the edge, letting out a moan and filling Tristan with his cum.

Miles fell on top of Tristan, burying his head into the crook of Tristan’s neck as they both caught their breath. They lied there for a moment, thinking about sleep, before Tristan began shifting uncomfortably beneath him. Miles pushed himself up, kissing the other boy’s lips softly and pulled out of him before crashing onto the bed next to him. Both boys were drunk and exhausted, passing out the minute their eyes were closed.

 

The sun was way too fucking bright on Miles’ eyes when he awoke the next morning, yanking the comforter over his head to block out the light. He was never one to take a hangover well, and today was no exception. Miles’ head was pounding and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep, but the dry thirsty feeling in his throat stopped him from doing so.

Miles blearily pulled on boxers and dragged himself out of bed, barely taking note that Tristan wasn’t beside him before heading down the hallway, eyelids still half closed. He heard a cabinet close and the clink of a coffee mug against the counter. A freshly showered Tristan was facing the coffee maker but turned around when he heard Miles enter the kitchen. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” 

Miles groaned, walking over to hug Tristan. “What time is it?” he mumbled.

“Almost eleven. You want coffee?” Tristan rubbed up and down Miles’ back before sliding his fingers through the boy’s brunette hair, attempting to fix his bedhead. Miles nodded and Tristan kissed his forehead before they separated.

Miles sat down at the counter, watching Tristan pour two cups of coffee before carrying one over to him. “Thanks,” Miles spoke softly as he took the cup and sipped it, the hot liquid helping relieve his minor headache and grogginess. Tristan stood across the counter watching him drink his coffee in silence for a couple moments.

“So, you said something last night,” Tristan began, watching Miles curiously to try and read his reaction.

“Hm,” Miles spoke over his coffee mug as he took another sip. “I say a lot of things.”

Tristan frowned slightly at that. “You don’t remember?” he questioned.

Miles remembered exactly, but he thought he’d mess with his boyfriend for a little bit longer. “I remember a lot of things, Tris, you’re going to have to be more specific.” Tristan’s face turned into a scowl and Miles gave in. He reached across the counter to place his hand over Tristan’s. “Of course I remember.”

Tristan looked down at their hands and then back up, unsure. “You do?”

“I want you to move in with me, Tristan,” Miles said before taking another sip of coffee. 

Tristan broke into a smile. “Really?”

“Yes,” Miles chuckled at Tristan’s disbelieving expression. “You already have a key, you sleep here all the time, and most of your shit is here, so just move in. I mean, there’s no rush, but I want to live with you.”

Tristan rounded the counter, coming to stand in front of Miles. “Okay,” he agreed and Miles was pulling him in for a kiss because it was that easy.


	15. All Falls Down

The next month passed by before Miles and Tristan even knew it. They were both busy at work, Miles spending extra nights at the office to finish the updated CSIS contract and Tristan throwing his energy into the play he was now directing at the theatre. Miles had managed to get the contract sent out right before the company’s holiday break, much to Hunter’s approval. Tristan was in a constant state of happiness at the theatre, loving being able to make something of the acting rather than coaching from the sidelines. Miles even stopped by the theatre a couple times to see Tristan direct the practices and was very impressed by his boyfriend. He took him on coffee dates to Starbucks afterwards, Tristan always being a sucker for a good cappuccino.

Tristan and Miles spent Christmas apart, Tristan going to visit his parents and Miles being forced by his siblings to attend the Hollingsworth mansion. It was only two days they spent away from each other, but they both missed the other dearly, calling and texting each other constantly to the point where their company took distasteful notice.

On New Years Eve, they went to a club to meet up with some of Tristan’s work friends, Tristan no doubt showing Miles off. Grace and Hunter came by to join them and it was another night of drunken dancing and fun. Miles and Tristan made out at midnight, starting the New Year exactly where they wanted to be in each other’s arms.

They’d both decided to wait till the end of January to move in together. It was more convenient for Tristan to have his apartment so close to work as he finished up the play and he’d already paid the rent. They still spent almost every night together, either at Tristan’s or Miles’ apartment, and Tristan had slowly started to pack and bring some of his stuff over.

Miles was experiencing an average day in the office after the holidays, mindlessly scrolling through his inbox, when Hunter came barging in, shutting the door harder than usual behind him before throwing a packet of stapled papers in Miles’ face. “What the—,” Miles started, but didn’t have the chance to finish as his brother began yelling at him.

“You had one job, Miles! One freaking job and I told you to check your numbers!” Hunter’s face was turning beat red in his anger. Miles looked down at the papers before him, realizing it was a copy of the updated CSIS contract that he had sent out over a week ago. He flipped the pages until he saw the scribbled pen marks that Hunter had drawn, circling the prices that Miles must have messed up. “Why can’t you just do your job correctly? This is more important than spending time with your stupid boyfriend!” Hunter yelled, slamming his hand down on Miles’ desk.

Miles looked up at the reference to Tristan. “It was a mistake! I’ll fix it,” he told his brother.

Hunter laughed dryly. “CSIS already signed off on it. You misplaced a decimal point and just cost us nearly a million dollars! If you weren’t so distracted by Tristan all the time, maybe you would have actually done something useful for this company!” Hunter was livid and Miles knew he had fucked up.

“My mistake has nothing to do with Tristan.” Miles sighed roughly, looking back down at the contract to see where he went wrong. Sure enough, there was a careless error that left the price down by a high margin. “I’m sorry. I’ll call CSIS and take care of it,” he said, not wanting to meet his brother’s eyes.

“Don’t bother. You’ve already done enough,” Hunter chewed out before storming out of his office, letting the door slam closed behind him. Miles groaned to himself, disbelieving he had done such a stupid thing, but didn’t think his brother had to be so pissed off. There was nothing he could do about it now. Hunter would get over it eventually.

 

Except Hunter didn’t get over it. He ignored Miles for the rest of the week, sending him vague emails when he needed something done for the company instead of just walking to his office next door. Miles was annoyed at the way he was acting even after he had apologized, and worked mostly from home towards the end of the week to avoid the office. 

“I just don’t get why he has to act so childish,” Miles complained to Tristan over a beer Sunday night. “I’m his brother. He’s going to have to get over it at some point.”

Tristan leaned into his arm on the couch, taking a sip from his bottle of beer. “You made a mistake and apologized. I’m sure he’ll get over it soon. Just hang in there,” he tried to advise the other boy, planting soothing kisses on his neck to calm him. Then, Tristan was distracting him in the best way possible, placing their beers on the coffee table and climbing into his lap to kiss him.

 

The next two days at work were no better than the week prior, Miles still receiving the silent treatment from Hunter. He wasn’t going to beg his brother for forgiveness and would just wait for him to man up and fix things between them. Miles had a feeling it wouldn’t be that much longer, as the employees were starting to catch on and Hunter wouldn’t risk their jobs and the company.

To make matters worse, coming home from work Tuesday night, Miles was surprised to find his apartment empty. Tristan and him had fallen into a routine where they usually met at Miles’ apartment after they both got off of work. He figured the other boy would have at least texted him if he was going to be late, but his phone had no missed messages. Miles called Tristan’s cell phone, frowning when it went to voicemail and sent him a text instead. _Everything okay? Let me know where you are. ___

Miles never heard back, growing sick as each minute past with worry. What if James was back in town and had shown up at Tristan’s doorstep? Miles was just about to grab his keys and head over there around nine when he heard the door to his apartment open, Tristan walking in.

Something was different about the other boy that Miles couldn’t quite place, his eyes appearing empty and his body expression lagging. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Where have you been?” The questions came tumbling out of Miles’ mouth as he approached Tristan. 

Tristan finally met his gaze, tired, but there was some sort of fire that appeared behind his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said, not leaving Miles any time for a reaction as he pushed forward, kissing him hard and hungrily, angry almost, taking his breath away.

Miles thought he tasted alcohol on Tristan’s tongue, which confused the hell out of him because his boyfriend wasn’t one to drink by himself, let alone hard liquor. But, the thought slipped Miles’ mind as Tristan was pulling him into the bedroom and stripping him of his clothes.

It was different. The sex was rough, something Miles wasn’t used to with Tristan, not that he was complaining. Miles was accustomed to making love with Tristan face to face that it took him by surprise as Tristan pushed Miles onto his stomach and pounded him into the mattress from behind. Miles was making all sorts of noises as Tristan thrust into him repeatedly and relentlessly, before he was shooting his load onto the sheets, crying out with Tristan biting at his shoulder. Tristan had been oddly quiet throughout most of it, continuing to chase his orgasm before he was coming inside Miles, finally stilling and dropping to the bed beside him.

Miles was a sweaty mess, exhausted and spent; glancing at Tristan who had his eyes closed next to him. He wondered what had his boyfriend all worked up, but thought better of asking. They were both tired and could talk about it tomorrow, right now needing sleep. Miles curled up next to Tristan before closing his eyes and letting sleep overtake him.

 

When Miles woke up the following morning, Tristan was gone, the bed left empty beside him. He searched his apartment, coming up empty and realizing he must have already been out on his morning run. Miles took a much-needed shower before dressing for work, downing a cup of coffee and heading to the office.

“Why are you walking like you have a stick up your ass?” Hunter was leaning against his office door, watching Miles approach. Miles’ eyebrows shot up at Hunter’s voice, not having been expecting him to break the silent treatment.

Miles then realized he had in fact been walking funny, his ass sore from the sex with Tristan last night. He attempted to walk normally, smirking at his brother and the memory. “I’ll just say Tristan and I had a busy night.”

Hunter scowled, seeming awfully confused and surprised by the statement. He followed Miles into his office, watching him sit down at his desk and wake his computer. “You and Tristan were together last night?”

Miles looked up at his brother, not totally understanding where this conversation was going. “Well, he’s my boyfriend so yeah, we spent the night together.”

Hunter only shook his head, letting it go and not commenting further on the subject. “I talked to CSIS. They’re willing to let us reissue the contract since it’s a pretty huge expense we lost. I’m handling it from now on.”

Miles nodded, relieved to hear he wouldn’t be costing the company a million dollars, only time. “See, I told you it could be fixed. You flipped out for nothing,” he tried to lighten the mood between him and his brother.

“We got lucky,” Hunter stressed, still clearly angry over the whole situation. “It’s not going to happen again and I need you to focus on this company. It is the most important thing right now.”

Miles sighed, wanting this feud with his brother to be over. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s not going to happen again, I promise.”

He watched Hunter leave, thinking back to his night with Tristan. What was going on with him? Miles checked his phone, finding no texts from his boyfriend. They needed to talk about whatever happened last night, but the other boy was being distant, which was so unlike Tristan. Miles decided to send him a text, assuming he was on his way to work by now. _You really did me good last night ;).. We should talk later though. Hope you’re okay. _Miles didn’t receive a text back.__

 

If Miles was worried before, he was freaking the fuck out when he got home that night and found his apartment once again desolate. He called Tristan multiple times, only getting his voicemail. Whatever was going on with Tristan must be serious if the other boy was shutting him out. Miles racked his brain for anything that could have happened between them that would cause Tristan to act this way, but couldn’t come up with anything. They had been fine, more than fine, and so happy just the other day. So, why was Tristan all of a sudden ignoring his texts and not returning his calls? Was there another guy? Miles shook that thought from his head, knowing Tristan would never cheat on him. He just needed to see his boyfriend and have a conversation with him to make sure he was okay. Hopefully, Miles was freaking out for nothing.

It was hours later when Miles finally got a text back from Tristan. _Sorry, was caught up at the theatre. Sleeping at home tonight._

 

The next day, Miles decided not to go to work, despite already being on the rocks with Hunter. He needed to find Tristan and figure out what was going on between them because this was not who they were. They didn’t spend nights alone without any phone calls or decent texts to one another. Miles had barely gotten any sleep to begin with, too worried about his boyfriend.

Miles was just finishing up his cup of coffee in the kitchen, getting ready to head over to Tristan’s apartment, when his door opened. Miles set down his cup, watching Tristan walk in, wearing a tank top, gym shorts, and ear buds. He was sweaty from his morning run and met Miles’ gaze with bloodshot eyes, freezing in place. He pulled the ear buds out and let them drop against his chest, opening his mouth in surprise to speak. “What are you doing here?”

Miles drew his eyebrows together; confused by his words considering this was his apartment. Was Tristan hoping he wouldn’t be here? “I took the day off of work. I was actually going to see you since you’ve been pretty much ignoring me.” Miles came down from the kitchen, shortening the distance between them.

“You can’t skip work, Miles, especially to see me,” Tristan said. Miles stared at him incredulously and Tristan dropped his gaze to look at his feet, taking a deep breath. “We need to talk.” Miles nodded and waited for Tristan to continue, not prepared for the words he was about to say at all. “I think we should stop seeing each other.”

Miles was startled, unsure if he had heard Tristan correctly. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Tristan scuffed his shoe on the hard wood floor, still not meeting Miles’ eyes. “You have a lot going on with work right now and I think it’s best if we break up. I don’t want to distract you from what’s important.” Miles watched Tristan swallow hard. “You’re a great guy Miles, but—”

Miles cut Tristan off before he could say another word. “You are what’s important, Tristan. I don’t care about work. Where is this coming from?” Miles didn’t understand as he blinked back the tears threatening to escape. Was Tristan really breaking up with him? “Tristan, look at me!” He finally looked up, face hard as he met Miles’ eyes, biting his lip. Miles couldn’t figure out where this was coming from. Everything had been so amazing between them and he knew Tristan felt it, too. This talk about the company made no sense, the words sounding somehow like Hunter’s, calling Tristan a distraction. Then, the pieces began to click into place as he recalled how his brother blamed his time spent with Tristan for his mistake on the contract. “Did Hunter say something to you?” Tristan didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. Miles could see the answer clear as day in his expression. “When?”

“On Tuesday,” Tristan mumbled, Miles remembering how surprised Hunter was yesterday to hear that he was still with Tristan. His own brother had convinced his boyfriend to break up with him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Miles questioned. “My brother doesn’t know what he’s talking about, okay? I want to be with you, Tristan!” Miles was flipping out at this point, scared of losing the boy standing before him. This couldn’t be the end of his relationship with Tristan. They were just getting started.

“Like you said, Hunter always gets what he wants, right?” Tristan said, repeating Miles’ words about his brother from the night of the HCC Christmas party. “It’s for the best, Miles,” but even his voice sounded doubtful.

“No.” Miles reached to grab hold of Tristan’s hands, voice thick with tears. “I love you, Tristan.” He watched Tristan’s composure crumble at the words, eyes growing with tears as he pulled his hands away from Miles’. “And I know you love me, too,” Miles fought.

Tristan shook his head, shattering Miles’ heart into a million pieces. “I’m sorry, Miles.” He backed away, turning for the door as quickly as possible and didn’t look back as he left, his hands at his face to catch the fallen tears.

Miles watched him go, to upset to stop him. As the door closed behind Tristan, Miles felt the hot tears running down his cheeks. He let out a sob, feeling the pain of losing the best thing in is life. Miles swiped his hands angrily at his face, clearing the wet tears, knowing who really was to blame for this. If Hunter hadn’t said anything to Tristan, none of this ever would have happened.

In a rash decision, Miles grabbed his keys and headed out of his apartment, down the elevator and to his car. He drove to HCC, trying his best not to think about what had just happened with Tristan. He couldn’t think about it right now without completely breaking down and Miles didn’t have time for that at the moment. He could cry later.

He stormed into the building, ignoring the weird looks he got from the receptionist and other employees, marching straight to Hunter’s office. He ripped open the door, stepping inside and slamming it shut behind him. “How dare you?” he screamed, knocking over the closest thing to him, which happened to be a picture frame of the two of them on Hunter’s desk. He watched it go flying to the floor, the glass shattering before looking back to his brother, vision red.

Hunter was alarmed at his brother’s entrance, looking up from his desk with wide eyes. Miles swiped his hand across the desk, sending all of the files and papers in front of Hunter wielding to the floor in a scattered mess. “After everything I’ve done for you! After everything I’ve given up for this company!” Miles pointed his finger at Hunter, his rage causing his whole body to shake. “You selfish piece of shit!” Miles kicked over a ficus plant and picked up Hunter’s briefcase before throwing it at his brother. Hunter ducked as it went whizzing past his head. “I loved him!”

“I’m guessing Tristan took my advice then?” Hunter asked as he lifted his head back up, checking if the coast was clear.

“He dumped me, you ungrateful asshole! This company would be nothing without me! You had no fucking right!” Miles hated his brother in that moment, hated ever agreeing to go into business with him. He had lost Tristan because of Hunter and he was never going to forgive him for it.

“The company comes first, Miles! Always!”

“Jesus Christ! You sound just like Dad!” Miles watched the way Hunter sat back in his chair, defeated, eyes burning with the comparison of him to their father. No one ever wanted to be similar to that man. Miles wasn’t even sorry, no matter how low of a blow it was, not after what Hunter had done. He rubbed his hand across his face, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m done. You’re on your own from now on.” 

Miles turned and opened the office door, shutting it roughly behind him. Every employee in the room seemed to look up from their cubicle and stare at Miles. “Get back to work,” Miles ordered before heading out of the building and to his car.

Once locked inside his BMW, Miles began violently banging his fists against the steering wheel, his whole world crashing down on him. He cried vehemently, the broken feeling catching up on him from when Tristan had left. He loved Tristan, but now it didn’t matter. Tristan didn’t love him back, probably never did and never would. Miles was all alone and the pain of this breakup was something he had never experienced before. Miles choked through his sobs, trying desperately to catch his breath, feeling as if his whole world was ending.

Miles managed to pull himself together long enough to drive to the liquor store to stock up on whiskey and vodka before returning to his apartment. He sunk to the ground against his kitchen cabinets before breaking down again with a handle of jack in his hand. He began drinking away the grief and heartache from the day’s events. It was time to escape because his reality had now become just way too painful to face.


	16. Numb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AmethystBeloved wrote an amazing fic about Hunter and Tristan's conversation from Chapter 15: All Falls Down. Make sure to check it out, The Distraction: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7367305 Thank you, Preya!!

Miles didn’t remember falling asleep. It was sometime after he finished off half the handle of whiskey on the kitchen floor and thrown his phone across the room after ignoring three calls from Frankie. But he awoke to the sound of heels clacking against the tile, approaching his slouching form and a muttering of, “Jesus Christ, Miles.”

His eyes cracked open slowly, seeing Grace standing over him, taking in his state of intoxication and his recently acquired alcohol supply littering the countertop above him. Miles didn’t know what time it was or how long ago he had started drinking, but he was still drunk enough to know he had not slept through the night. He briefly wondered how Grace had broken into his apartment before assuming she had probably picked the lock. The only person who had a spare key was Tristan.

Looking up at his best friend through bleary eyes, Miles started remembering the painful memories of how exactly he had ended up on the kitchen floor that day, drunk out of his right mind. “He dumped me, Grace.” His voice cracked and the sympathizing look on Grace’s face told Miles that she already knew.

“I came as soon as I got off the phone with Frankie.” Grace sunk down next to him, wrapping an arm around Miles and pulling him against her. Miles set his head on Grace’s shoulder, too drunk to cry, but his body still trembled with each uneven breath. He longed for Tristan’s arms around him, but knew that would never happen again. The brutal awakening of that thought brought forth the real tears that rolled down Miles’ face and landed against Grace’s black long-sleeved shirt.

Grace was never one to comfort others and Miles knew that more than anyone. But, they had been friends for so long and it was safe to say she had never seen him that broken. Miles wasn’t sure he could trust anyone after the day he had, but he knew Grace was the one person that would always be there for him. So he accepted her hand rubbing up and down his shoulder and was glad she didn’t try and soothe him with false words, that everything was going to be okay, because nothing about this was okay.

Miles wasn’t sure if it was minutes or hours that he leaned against Grace crying, but the tears eventually dried out and he was left with a panging empty feeling in his chest, along with hiccups. He kept his eyes closed, trying to block out any thoughts of the boy that had broken his heart. He mostly failed.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” Grace kept her tone soft as she stood up, hoisting Miles up along with her. She hooked an arm around him to help him to his bedroom, as he stumbled over his own feet in a drunken daze. Miles fell onto his bed, thankful the liquor would put him right to sleep as Grace yanked off his shoes before shutting off the light.

Miles pulled the pillow next to him to his face, hugging it tight against his chest, breathing in the scent that Tristan had left on it after spending countless of nights in his bed. It was what he needed to try and forget his nightmare of a life and the emptiness of the bed next to him. Holding Tristan’s pillow was just enough to dull the pain and drift him to sleep.

 

With the morning came an unwelcome sobriety and the full realization of his breakup with Tristan. The feeling of heartache was something new to Miles and unbearable to the point he felt like he couldn’t breathe. It was a hundred times worse with the effects of a hangover.

He stared up at the ceiling, blinking back the tears that were coming to surface. Miles wished he could flip a switch that would turn off his brain for the time being, so he could stop thinking about Tristan’s lips and Tristan’s smile and the way he made him laugh. It was too much, knowing that Tristan had never felt the same way, had never loved him. Miles tried to scrounge up anything wrong in their relationship, any warning signs. But, the reality was that there weren’t any. Miles had been so blind, so freaking in love with Tristan, that he could have never seen this coming. And that only made it hurt more.

He sat up when he heard shuffling in the doorway of his bedroom, eyes landing on Grace, her dark hair in a loose braid that tinted with blue strands. She was dressed in a pair of Miles’ sweatpants and a t-shirt that was a little big on her. Miles was just glad she hadn’t picked out any of Tristan’s clothes to borrow on accident. He didn’t think he would be able to stand the sight of that.

“How are you feeling?” It was a stupid question to ask and Grace knew it the minute the words left her lips. So she shrugged before Miles could open his mouth and said, “Get dressed. Coffee will make you feel better.”

Miles was sure that coffee in fact would not make him feel better. But, he dragged himself from bed and fished for some clean clothes. He considered taking a shower, thinking the hot water might help clear his mind, but decided against it. Miles didn’t think he would be able to face the memories of pressing Tristan up against the shower glass door and kissing him under the steam. 

Miles pulled his shirt off, stopping to look at himself in front of the mirror. He was a complete mess, from the dark bags under his eyes to his hair sticking up in every direction. Miles frankly didn’t care he looked a wreck, since it matched exactly how he felt.

His eyes dropped to his shoulder, settling on the dark hickeys Tristan had left the other day. Miles traced with his eyes every place Tristan’s mouth had landed on him that night, remembering how upset he’d been when he finally made it home to Miles. Miles hated himself for letting Tristan stay quiet that night, not making him talk. His mind was clouded with what ifs, that maybe he could have prevented this from happening if he hadn’t let Tristan vent through sex. How was he supposed to know his brother had somehow convinced Tristan to break up with him? How was he supposed to know that would be their last time together?

Miles felt the tears roll silently down his cheeks, realizing what they once had would be no more. His eyes traced higher, to his lower neck and chest where the lighter marks and love bites were, from happier times with Tristan last weekend. He raised his hand to brush his fingers lightly against the hickeys and nearly choked at the flashback of Tristan’s lips on him, sucking and kissing his neck post-orgasm.

Grace threw a clean shirt at him from where she was hovering in the doorway, Miles failing to catch it in time, watching it fall to the floor at his feet. “Come on. I’ll make coffee,” she said, Miles not missing the pitying glance across her face.

He wiped his eyes and shook his head, realizing how pathetic he was. He couldn’t go on like this, thinking about Tristan constantly and adding to his heartache. He was destroying himself. So, Miles picked up the shirt and put it on before following Grace to the kitchen, in search of the one thing, besides his ex-boyfriend of course, that could dull the painful memories and make him feel numb.

Miles bypassed the cup of coffee Grace had poured for him, in favor of a bottle of hard liquor. He twisted off the cap and brought it to his lips, taking generous chugs and craving the burn as it went down his throat. He heard Grace sigh as he brought the bottle down, setting it on the counter. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Miles.”

Miles didn’t look up as he took a deep breath after swallowing that amount of alcohol. “Doing what?” His voice was dull, lacking any sort of emotion that had been present before.

“Drinking yourself into oblivion,” she said sharply before lowering her voice. “I know you’re hurting and I’m worried about you, Miles. But, you can’t go on with this. What about your job?”

Miles huffed dryly. “You haven’t heard? I quit.”

“You can’t quit your own company. What about your family?”

“Who? Hunter?” He looked to Grace disbelieving because he knew Frankie had told her what happened. “He did this! He’s the reason Tristan dumped me and now I can’t stand to even walk through my own apartment without falling apart!” Miles took another deep breath, his face flushed red in anger as he threw his hand down on the countertop, rattling the bottle of liquor. “Screw him! I hate him!”

“He’s your brother, Miles, your best friend! Calm down.”

“No, you’re my best friend!” Miles’ eyebrows drew together. “Are you fucking kidding me, Grace? You’re taking his side?”

“Of course not!” Grace grabbed Miles’ hand from where it was gripping the side of the countertop too tight, his knuckles white. “What he did was fucked up and I hate him just as much as you do! Look what he did to you! You think its not killing me to see you like this? You think I don’t want to head over to his apartment and rip him a new one right now?” Grace was the one who took a breath now as she placed her hands on both of Miles’ forearms. “But, it will do no good, Miles. Hunter did a terrible, terrible thing and he owes you more than an apology.” Grace’s eyes were watering with tears, hurting for her best friend. “But, you can’t throw away the company. You can’t stay home and try and drink your pain away. It won’t work. You can’t drink to forget about Tristan, Miles.”

They stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other, catching their breaths, before Miles finally spoke in a calmer tone. “Watch me.” He had tears running down his face in hot streaks as he stared into Grace’s eyes. He pulled out of her grasp and turned to face the counter. “Fuck,” he whispered, looking down and wiping his face. He picked up the bottle and headed to the living room to plop down on the couch and drink his life away. He needed to feel numb.

Miles knew Grace just wanted what was best for him, but, he guessed so did Tristan and look where that left him. It was too soon to try and pick up the pieces of Miles’ broken heart. He loved Tristan beyond repair and it would take the world for him to ever get over it. His brother had betrayed him and Miles didn’t think he’d ever have any forgiveness. So, right now, Miles did not care about the company or his family. He cared about making the pain go away and if that wasn’t possible than to at least make it bearable. Liquor seemed to do the job.

 

The next few days were a state of numbness. Miles drank until he passed out, only to wake up again and repeat the process. He cried some during those fleeting moments when he wasn’t drunk enough to forget about Tristan, before fixing the problem by putting a bottle to his face.

Grace came in and out of his apartment every day to check on him, making sure he ate something. They didn’t talk much and Miles preferred it that way. Frankie stopped by a couple times to try and talk some sense into Miles, tell him how sorry Hunter was. Miles ignored all of it, in favor of drinking more alcohol. He knew he was being selfish, but at this point, did it really matter? He’d lost the one thing most important to him, the love of his life.

“Please, Miles,” Frankie begged, tears in her eyes as she sat next to her highly intoxicated brother on the couch. “Hunter and I need you. The company needs you. He never meant for this to happen.”

Miles snorted, not looking at his little sister, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stand seeing her upset. “Yeah? He should have thought of that before,” Miles slurred, his voice thick with sarcasm as he rested his head on the back of the couch. 

“Why don’t you just find a rebound, Miles, like with all your past relationships? I don’t get it.”

“I love him, Frankie and the thought of hooking up with anyone else makes me sick. He was it for me and Hunter ruined it. He ruined me.” Miles sighed, knowing Frankie wouldn’t understand. “I need to be alone, Franks.” The good thing about Frankie was she listened and actually left.

 

Miles was still on the couch, barely paying attention to the hockey game on TV while drinking from a bottle of scotch, when he heard a knock on his door. He groaned, knowing it wasn’t Grace because she would have just broken her way into his apartment like she had the past few days instead of knocking. He wondered if it was Frankie again, but hadn’t she just been here and he kicked her out? Miles realized he was too drunk to even remember how long ago that’d been.

When the knock came again he dragged himself from the couch, stumbling to the door. It took him a couple tries to unlock the door and open it, but when he did, the door flew back, nearly hitting him in the face. Miles recovered before looking to see who had come to bother him.

Miles blinked, wondering if he was now hallucinating because there was Tristan, standing before him, looking at him wide eyed. Miles’ vision was fuzzy from the liquor, but he knew he wasn’t mistaking; his imagination wasn’t that perfect.

“Uh— Grace called, said she hasn’t seen you sober in three days,” Tristan stuttered. Miles nearly melted at his voice, not realizing just how much he’d missed it. But, with the words came an understanding that Tristan was only here because Grace had called him.

An unexpected anger towards his ex-boyfriend came bubbling to the surface. This boy had left him broken without a real explanation and Miles was mad about it. He hadn’t recognized it before, probably too sad and depressed; but with Tristan standing before him now, Miles knew he was furious with him for all the pain he’d caused. “She wouldn’t be wrong,” he replied bluntly.

Tristan raised his eyes at Miles, taking in the bags under his eyes and stubble on his chin and clearly wasted appearance. “Can I come in?”

Miles stepped aside for Tristan, letting him in to what was almost his home. He closed the door once Tristan had stepped in before walking further into the living room to snag his scotch from where he had abandoned it on the coffee table. He was going to need a drink for this.

“Jesus, Miles. It smells like a frat house in here,” Tristan commented, looking around the room. There were empty beer bottles and half-drunken handles of liquor littering both the coffee table and counters surrounding the kitchen, along with dirty dishes. Miles had not cleaned up at all since the breakup, including both his apartment and himself. His life was literally a mess.

Miles huffed a dry laugh, no humor behind it and headed into the kitchen to put some space between him and the boy he loved. He thought he’d feel better about seeing Tristan again, but it just made the breakup all too surreal. He couldn’t close the distance between them and wrap his arms around Tristan’s waist and kiss those lips because they were no longer together. No matter how much he wanted to touch Tristan, he couldn’t and that nearly killed Miles.

He took a deep breath once he was in the kitchen, taking a swig from the bottle in hand. Tristan followed him, hovering across the breakfast bar, leaving a countertop in between them. “Miles, what are you doing? You can’t do this to yourself.” His voice sounded pained, but Miles knew where the pain really fell and it wasn’t on Tristan.

Miles felt that anger again and the bitterness of heartbreak. “Why the fuck do you care?” he slurred, taking another slug of scotch.

“Why do I care?” Tristan repeated incredulously under his breath. “Miles, of course I care! I’m worried about you. Grace is worried about you. You can’t mope around all day and get drunk!”

Miles snapped. “Why not? I got nothing else to do! You broke up with me! You left without even talking to me! You have no right showing up here and trying to tell me how to cope with losing you!” He was too drunk to hold back the tears that were starting to roll down his face. “You don’t love me! What did you honestly think would happen, Tristan?”

Tristan opened his mouth, speechless, watching Miles start to crumble.

Through all the yelling and anger and tears, Miles suddenly felt sick, his stomach turning with too much scotch. There was no way he was making it to the bathroom, so Miles abruptly turned towards the sink, heaving into it. He usually wasn’t one to throw up from drinking, but tonight must have been an exception. Miles lurched into the sink, bent over as he vomited up all the alcohol and minimal food in his stomach.

It wasn’t pretty, but that didn’t stop Tristan from immediately rounding the counter and coming to his side. It didn’t matter if they were broken up because Miles needed him. “Fuck, Miles,” he muttered, placing a hand on Miles’ back as he hurled, rubbing softly. “What’d I do to you?” It was only a whisper, barely audible over the sound of puke hitting the stainless steel sink.

Once Miles had emptied his stomach, he rinsed his mouth before slumping against the counter, not having the energy to stand up straight. Tristan held him up the best he could, leading him out of the kitchen, towards Miles’ bedroom. “You need to sleep it off,” he told Miles, who was pretty out of sorts at this point, close to passing out.

Tristan helped Miles out of his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his boxers as he lied down on his bed. Miles was fading in and out, embarrassed for throwing up in front of Tristan and hating having the other boy take care of him. Tristan left momentarily, only to return with a bottle of water to place on the nightstand table beside Miles’ head. Miles looked up blearily at Tristan who stared back sadly before turning to leave.

“Don’t leave,” Miles heard his own voice cracking, throat dry.

Tristan turned back, face reveling in surprise and uncertainty. “Miles, I—”

“Please, don’t leave me,” Miles rasped. Tristan was just close enough for Miles to reach out and clutch onto his hand with a clammy palm. “Please, Tris,” he whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

There was a moment’s hesitation before Tristan relented, toeing off his shoes and climbing onto the bed next to Miles, fully clothed. 

Miles felt Tristan’s arm wrap around him, rubbing his shoulder and pulling him closer. He snuggled up next to Tristan, burying his head in the crook of his neck and breathing him in. “Don’t leave me,” he repeated in wretchedness, holding Tristan close to him as he trembled.

“Sh,” Tristan whispered into his hair, rubbing his back. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” His voice was so soft.

Miles didn’t believe it, would probably never believe those words again. But, he was drunk enough to pretend that everything would be okay and that he was safe from all the pain. Curled up in Tristan’s arms, he could pretend Tristan loved him back and they would have a happy ending together, even if it was only for one night.

It was the best Miles had slept since the breakup.


	17. Break-ups Suck

Miles woke up to an empty bed and the crushing feeling of being alone. He had a horrible taste in his mouth, like he’d thrown up last night, and then he remembered he had, right in front of Tristan. The memories came flooding back and Miles groaned, realizing how pathetic he must have looked last night. 

But, the worst part was, the other boy hadn’t even stuck around. Miles sat up in bed, running a hand through his tousled hair, Tristan nowhere in sight. He probably escaped as soon as Miles fell asleep and Miles felt a new sense of hurt and abandonment by it. Tristan hadn’t even stayed.

The gross taste in his mouth and quenching thirst forced Miles to get up, seeking the water bottle on his nightstand and drinking it dry. He headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth, looking at his rugged face in the mirror as he did so. Miles badly needed a shower and to shave the stubble off his face, knowing he couldn’t put off cleaning up his act any longer. It was time for him to be an adult and get his shit together, no matter how much it hurt.

Miles took the quickest shower humanly possible before shaving his facial hair and dressing into clean clothes. His body ached, probably a symptom of his hangover, leaving Miles feeling like he was stuck in a mud pile as he moved. He avoided his face in the mirror’s reflection, not wanting to see his deep bags and bloodshot eyes as if he hadn’t slept properly in days. 

Once Miles reached the kitchen, planning to brew a cup of coffee and clean the mess he’d made over the past few days, he froze in place as he caught sight of the room. Miles blinked to make sure he was seeing things clearly since this was not the apartment he’d left for bed last night. His countertops were cleared of all dirty dishes and empty liquor bottles, the sink empty, free of any vomit that had been there last night. The room no longer smelled like booze, only faintly of bleach and other cleaning products. Tristan had cleaned his apartment spotless, even thinking to put away the leftover bottles of whiskey and vodka in the cabinet. Miles couldn’t believe it.

To seal the deal that Tristan was behind the newfound cleanliness, there was a small note taped to the fridge. Miles recognized his handwriting immediately as he read the note, _Call me. –Tris ___

What did it mean? Confusion fluttered Miles’ mind along with a sense of aggravation. Why would Tristan clean his apartment and then just leave?

Miles fished his cellphone out of the pocket of his sweatpants, miraculously charged, before dialing Tristan’s phone number. He listened to it ring, breath hitching when Tristan finally picked up.

“Hi, how are you feeling?”

Miles shrugged, before stupidly realizing the other boy couldn’t see him. “Uh, a bit groggy.” There was a pause. “You cleaned my apartment.” Miles had meant it to be a question but it had come out as a statement.

“Yeah, it was a real mess.” Tristan let out a small huff of laughter.

“Um, thank you.” The conversation felt awkward to Miles, something he wasn’t used to with Tristan. He couldn’t remember another time he had ever felt awkward talking to the other boy.

The silence stretched out before Tristan spoke again. “Can I stop by during my lunch break? I think we should talk.”

“Yeah—Yeah, definitely.” 

Talk. Tristan wanted to talk and Miles had so many words left unsaid. He was scared this would only hurt him more, but Miles had to try. He would take all the pain to see Tristan and get to fight for their relationship one last time.

“Okay, I’ll see you in an hour.” 

The line went dead and Miles took a deep breath, holding himself together for the time being with a little dangerous sense of hope.

 

Miles was finishing up his third cup of coffee around noon, mulling over his thoughts, when Tristan knocked on his door. He got up from the breakfast bar to answer it, stepping out of the way of the threshold in a silent offer for Tristan to come in.

“You want coffee?” Miles asked as they headed into the kitchen, contemplating whether he should have another cup. He knew he probably didn’t need more caffeine, since his hand was starting to shake, but the drink seemed to ground him just slightly.

“No, I’m good, thank you,” Tristan said. He leaned his back against the breakfast bar, watching Miles turn to face him.

Miles was hesitant to lift his eyes to meet the other boy’s, not knowing what he’d find in Tristan’s expression. He felt he could always read Tristan like an open book, but when he finally met his ex’s gaze, he hadn’t a clue what Tristan was thinking. Miles realized he no longer knew the boy quite as well as he used to.

They stared at each other for a moment before Tristan cleared his throat. “I guess I owe you some closure.”

“Closure?” Miles scowled, dropping his eyes back to the tile floor of the kitchen. His mind was all over the place as he tried to process the meaning of closure. It slowly dawned on him that this wasn’t them getting back together, just confirmation of their breakup. It stung.

“Yeah, closure,” Tristan reiterated softly, the words not sounding right on his tongue. “Miles, look at me.”

Miles looked up, knowing he’d lost what small hold he’d had on his emotions and it was betrayed on his face. He was speechless, for once.

“I know it’s hard, but you can’t throw your life away because of me.” Tristan sniffed, Miles taking in his reddened nose and watery eyes. “We’re no good for each other, Miles. You know, Hunter and I—”

“No,” Miles cut him off dully at the mention of his brother. He didn’t want to hear it.

“Hunter and I only wanted what’s best for you,” he continued. “I never meant to hurt you, Miles.” Tristan swiped under his eyes, catching the tears before they could fall.

“Then why are you?” Miles’ voice cracked as he let the tears roll down his flushed cheeks, not bothering to wipe them away. His hands were glued to the counter behind him, knuckles white as he gripped the edge, holding himself up. His stomach had dropped, his legs felt weak.

Tristan shook his head, not seeming to be able to find the words and Miles sighed.

“I’ll always care about you. I don’t want to see you throwing your company away because of me,” Tristan’s voice was starting to rise with pain as he tried to get through to Miles. 

“Was it real or was it all in my head?” Miles asked weakly, questioning the last four months he’d spent with Tristan. Why was it so easy for Tristan to walk away from this when Miles was deteriorating more and more each minute? 

It took a second for Tristan to understand what he meant and his eyes softened. “What you and I had— I don’t want you to think for a second it wasn’t real, Miles. Nothing was one-sided.” The strong words cut deep, but Miles knew he believed Tristan. Miles watched him crumble as he asked, “You think I’m not hurting?”

Miles didn’t answer because he knew he was. This breakup had affected Tristan just as much and it was evident in his glassy eyes and trembling figure. It was the first time Miles was actually seeing that, believing the pain present in Tristan’s composure. Why did they both have to hurt so much when they were perfectly happy together? The situation was fucked up and unfair and Miles didn’t understand it.

They both tried to pull themselves together in the quiet moments that passed, avoiding each other’s eyes because looking at each other in pain only made them more upset.

“What’d Hunter say to you to get you to do it?” Miles asked lowly, his stomach turning as his brother’s name left his lips.

Tristan opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Miles knew he was going to spout the crap he already knew, that Hunter thought Tristan was a distraction to Miles and would result in the downfall of the company. But, Miles knew that couldn’t be it. There had to be something else that got under Tristan’s skin and to his insecurities, that made Tristan break up with him. He knew the other boy too well to know he wouldn’t have given up so quickly if Hunter hadn’t hit a nerve. 

Tristan swallowed, rethinking what he was about to say. “He told me I was just a fuck buddy, someone for you to screw after work and throw away when you’ve had your fun.” He grimaced like he hated to even have to repeat it.

Tristan’s honesty brought a sour taste to Miles’ mouth; nearly knocking him off his feet if it wasn’t for the counter he was gripping behind him. The wounds left by his brother were reopened and it felt as if someone was pouring acid on them. Never in his life would he believe Hunter could make up such lies and have the capability to destroy him. His brother was a monster.

“You believed him?” Miles’ mouth felt thick and dry and the words came out muffled.

Tristan didn’t answer, shaking his head, fresh tears streaming down both of their cheeks. It was answer enough.

“It’s not true, Tristan.” Miles wondered where he’d gone wrong. He thought Tristan had known he was his world, not just a sidepiece in some game. Miles had never felt stronger about anyone else before. Tristan had to know that. His brother knew that.

“I love you,” Miles said, voice thick with heartache and grief. He’d never meant three words more in his whole life.

“We fell for each other at the wrong time.” Tristan wiped the tears away once more, voice distraught.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Miles broke impossibly more, shaking his head as tears continued running down his face in hot streaks. But, he knew it was too late, despite the other boy standing a few feet away. Tristan was already gone, the short gap between them seeming to grow, moving them farther apart.

“You’re going to be okay, Miles.”

Miles didn’t believe it. How was he ever going to be okay when he felt so broken?

Tristan’s gaze shifted to the digital time displayed on the oven next to Miles before returning to his gaze. “Fuck, I have to go back to work.”

Miles nodded as the words registered, pushing away from the counter to stand up straighter. There was nothing left to say.

Tristan tore his eyes away from Miles and turned to head towards the door, Miles following silently behind to let him out. “I, um, took home most of my clothes and stuff this morning, but if I missed anything, don’t worry about returning it,” he said over his shoulder.

“Okay,” Miles croaked softly. This was it, probably the last time he’d see this boy. 

Tristan turned around once he reached the door, giving Miles one last look at that pretty face. Miles swallowed back his emotions as his eyes traced those sparkling irises and chiseled jawline and plush lips, one last time. He longed to touch him.

Tristan pulled his keys out of the pocket of his pants and unhooked the one silver key that unlocked the door directly behind him. He dragged his thumb over the teeth of the key before handing it over to Miles.

Miles took it with numb fingers, the key feeling all too heavy as it rested in his palm.

“I guess this is it,” Tristan mumbled as he shifted back around and opened the door. “Please, talk to your brother and go back to work.” The plea wasn’t weighted, only a simple request. He just wanted what was best for Miles.

Miles’ throat was too tight and if he didn’t know better, he would have thought he was going into anaphylactic shock. He sucked in a sharp breath. “Goodbye, Tris.”

The door closed behind him.

 

Miles’ finger slid over the familiar buzzer before he pressed down, feeling the buzz of the panel underneath it. “Who is it?” the intercom sounded, Grace’s voice coming through the speaker.

“It’s me,” Miles said, waiting for the click of the door unlocking before heading into her apartment building and onto the elevator.

The door to Grace’s apartment opened before he had to knock. Grace looked him over, deciphering what condition he was in. He was still a broken hearted mess, but at least a sober one.

“It’s really over,” Miles said, staring at his best friend, letting the words sink in.

Grace nodded and opened her arms invitingly. Miles fell into them, hugging her tightly, hoping she would be able to hold him together since he was failing at doing it himself. At least he didn’t cry, simply having no tears left. Instead, he felt dull and light-headed as Grace tightened her arms around him.

“Break-ups suck,” he mumbled and released a dry chuckle, burying his nose in her shoulder. 

“I’m here,” Grace said softly, pulling back to look at him. “Always.”

Then, she dragged him into the apartment and they spent the evening playing video games, drinking Mountain Dew and eating chips out of the bag. It was a healthy dose of normality that Miles hadn’t realized how much he needed. 

 

The days seemed to blur together as Miles slowly began getting a hold of himself. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think of Tristan and feel the pain of heartbreak. He often wondered what they would’ve been— could’ve been, which usually ended in more sadness and misery. But, Miles managed to stay away from the booze and attempt to deal with his emotions. He was slowly pulling his shattered pieces back together.

He thought about what Tristan was up to, if the other boy ever thought about him, if he was still hurting or if he’d moved on. Miles knew the opening night of the play was coming up, Tristan’s play, and figured he must be working hard to make sure the actors were ready. Miles was so proud of him. 

Miles surprisingly hadn’t heard anything from the company. He hadn’t checked his email since his last time in the office, Miles knowing his inbox was probably overflowing, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Hunter had tried calling his cellphone a couple times, Miles immediately sending it to voicemail until his brother got the hint. He wasn’t ready to speak to him.

Hunter must have known better than to show up at his apartment. That was until one chilly evening when Miles was up on the rooftop, enjoying the Toronto skyline in peaceful silence, he heard the door crack open and looked back to see the familiar raven black head of hair peaking out of a hoodie. Miles released a shaky breath, averting his eyes back to the city where he stood leaning against the glass barrier at the edge of the roof. He wasn’t prepared to confront his brother, not now, but it looked like he didn’t have a choice. He cursed under his breath. How had his brother thought to look for him up here?

“Not gonna jump, are you?” Hunter asked lightly from behind him, Miles shivering at the sound of his voice. 

“Awfully tempting if it gets me out of seeing you,” Miles said with spite, although he didn’t really mean it.

Hunter ignored the comment. “Brought you donuts. Your favorite.” 

Miles turned to see his brother setting the box of donuts down on the nearby table, feeling Hunter’s gaze on him as he did so. Did he really think donuts could buy his forgiveness?

“How’re you holding up?”

Miles flickered his eyes from the table to his brother, narrowing them. “I’m really not.” He was honest.

“Maybe coming back to work will help,” Hunter offered hopefully, causing Miles to scoff and rub at his nose. “The company needs you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it does.” Miles kept his voice indifferent. The heat of anger was licking at his ankles, threatening to explode on him at any moment. He huffed a humorless laugh.

“Oh, come on, Miles. How much longer are you going to keep this up?”

Miles felt his self-control snap as he glared at his brother, going hysterical in fury. “You have a lot of fucking nerve, Hunter. I gotta give you that. I mean to pick apart my fucking life and ruin my personal relationship; that takes some sick intentions. And then, to show up here and think I owe you something! You are a manipulating son of a bitch, Hunter! Tristan told me what you said to him.” He couldn’t stop now that he was going. “I gave up everything for that company, for your dream! I had people after people dump me because I was too invested in HCC. And this one, Tristan, I actually wanted to keep. I love him and you ruined that because you’re so damn selfish!” He watched Hunter flinch at his cold tone.

“I know, Miles, and I’m sorry! You’re my brother and I never meant to hurt you! You’ve always looked out for me, even when we were kids, and I just— I thought I was losing you. The company, we’re the busiest we’ve ever been and I thought with Tristan out of the way, you would be more focused on the CSIS project because it’s important to me. I was wrong and I’m so fucking sorry! Let me fix this. I’ll talk to Tristan and tell him I made it all up. Just, let me fix this. I can’t run HCC without you, Miles. I need my brother.”

Hunter looked so genuine that Miles almost believed him. Almost. “No, you’ve done enough. I don’t want you near Tristan. Ever.” His voice was threatening, just how Miles hoped it’d be. 

Hunter sighed and there was a long pause before he spoke again, this time much quieter. “Are we ever going to get past this? Are you ever going to come back to work?” 

They had a shit family, but throughout it all, Miles, Hunter and Frankie had always stuck together. Now, Miles wasn’t so sure that was possible.

Miles ran his hands over his face, pulling himself together, back into that dull state he’d maintained over the last few days, blocking out his feelings. He shrugged. “I don’t know, Hunter.” He needed time.

Hunter finally dropped his gaze to the floor. “Okay,” he mumbled. He shuffled his feet, placing his hand on Miles’ shoulder as he passed, heading back towards the door that led to the stairs. “I miss you.”

He left it at that, the words clinging in the air as Miles heard the metal door open and bang shut behind him.

Miles was able to relax his posture and breathe properly now that he was alone. He sat down on the nearby chair with a groan, flipping the box with the donuts open, and picking up the one covered in chocolate frosting. Hunter sure knew how to get to him. Miles took a huge bite, hoping to salve his rampant emotions with the sugary pastry. It was all he had.


	18. Opening Night

For three and a half years, hundreds and hundreds of days, Miles had walked through the glass doors of HCC like he owned the place. He _did _own the place. This was his company. And now, after being away from it for over two weeks, Miles felt like a stranger.__

He sat in his Beemer parked in the parking garage outside of the office building, thrumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he tried to build up the balls to go inside. He could do this. He knew he had to do this. If Miles didn’t go inside now, he’d never have the guts to come back.

As much as Miles loathed his brother and the thought of working beside him and being business partners, Miles needed the company. He couldn’t stand sitting in his apartment another moment, moping around, depressed and waiting. Waiting for the boy that never came. Miles badly needed something to occupy his time, and from past experience, he knew returning to HCC would pack him with a busy schedule. Grace had told him keeping busy would help him get over said boy.

After a couple more minutes of contemplating whether or not to just drive away now, Miles ripped open the door of his car with a muttering of, “Fuck it.” He needed to do this for himself. He needed to get his life back on track.

Miles slammed the door to his car and locked it, taking long strides out of the parking garage and to the entrance of HCC Headquarters. He stared up at the building for a moment, looking at their business logo displayed above the large glass doors in gold. It felt different, so different than the last time he’d been here, but physically it was all the same.

He opened the heavy door, moving forward to pull open the second set and stepped into the lobby. The receptionist was typing quickly on her computer behind the front desk, glancing up at the sound of someone entering. She froze, surprise evident on her face at seeing Miles.

“Good morning, Amanda,” Miles greeted just as he used to every morning, throwing on a fake smile, like everything in his life was just peachy. He knew it was far from it. 

“Miles— Mr. Hollingsworth, how are you?” She offered a smile, but her face was full of concern. Miles wondered if she had any clue why her boss had been unexpectedly absent for so long, if anyone in the company knew.

“I’m doing okay,” Miles said with a nod. The little flash of sympathy in her eyes had answered his question for him. She didn’t ask about Tristan.

Miles continued down the hall, passing through the rows of cubicles and office doors. He kept his eyes forward, not wanting to interact with any of his employees at the moment, feeling the stare of them as he walked quickly towards his own office.

His desk was exactly how he’d left it, paperwork neatly piled high and post-it notes covering every free inch with his messy handwriting. He sat down in his leather chair with a sigh, swiveling back and forth as he looked around the office, taking everything in. Miles wasn’t sure if it was a good thing for him to be back here, but nothing was good these days. It was worth a shot.

He powered on his computer, waiting for the screen to light up, and opened his email, groaning at the display of just how many messages he’d received since being away. His inbox was full with over two hundred emails and Miles began scrolling through them, deleting the ones he deemed as unimportant.

Miles heaved a loud sigh when he finally reached the end of the unopened emails, a little surprised that none of his employees had come to bother him, yet. He assumed Amanda was telling them to keep out to give him time to settle and who even knew where Hunter was. Miles was sure the second his brother found out he was back in business he’d be knocking on his door.

Deciding to give Grace a call, Miles picked up his office phone, dialing her number.

“Hello?”

“You’ll never guess where I am,” Miles breathed out followed by Grace’s snicker.

“Considering you’re calling from the office line, I’m assuming you’re back at work.” There was a slight pause, as Miles didn’t respond right away, before Grace continued, giving her opinion on the matter. “That’s great, Miles.”

“Is it?” Miles questioned, wondering if he should really be back here after his brother betrayed him. How were they ever supposed to run a business together if Miles couldn’t even stand to look at him?

Grace sighed. “Got tired of staring at the wall all day then?”

Miles chuckled dryly. She knew him too well. “I was starting to go crazy holed up in my apartment all day.”

“You’ve always been crazy, Miles,” she reminded him jokingly. “Haven’t heard from him then?”

Miles looked to his hands fidgeting with a pen on his desk. He didn’t know why he still hoped that Tristan would reach out to him when the other boy had made it clear they were over. Miles just couldn’t wrap his head around losing someone he loved so much. “The opening of his play at the theater is tonight.” It’d been a date punched into the back of Miles’ mind for weeks now since the break up, the upcoming show looming over him as he contemplated going.

Grace hummed into the phone, Miles hearing shuffling over the line and the clacking of a keyboard, knowing she was at work. “So, you’ve been thinking about going to his show and now you’re back at work to distract yourself from that,” she correctly assumed, Miles nodding even though she couldn’t see. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Well, I’ve managed to busy myself with emails and keep off of stalking Tristan’s Facerange page.”

“So far so good, then. Except it’s not even noon,” Grace humored.

“Do you think it’s a bad idea to go?”

Miles heard more shifting over the line sounding like Grace was sitting up straighter and more attentive. “You guys were in a serious relationship for months. You were the one who pushed him to change the script or whatever, which lead to him directing the play. No, I don’t think it’s a bad idea to go support your ex-boyfriend. However, you can’t expect anything to come of it, Miles. For all you know, he could be dating someone new.”

Miles closed his eyes, trying to stop the images flashing through his mind of Tristan happy with someone else. He wanted the best for the guy, but it was too painful to think of him moving on right now. “Why would you even say that?” Miles could tell Grace knew she sounded cruel and he clenched his teeth, stifling a groan.

“Because I don’t want to see you hurting anymore than you already are.” It was tough love; something Grace was always fond of giving out.

Miles heard someone enter his office then, looking up to see Hunter, bouncing on his toes and looking at him bright-eyed. “Jesus Christ,” Miles muttered, phone still pressed to his ear. He didn’t want to talk to his brother now and probably not ever.

“Does Hunter know you’re there?” Grace asked after hearing his curse.

“He does now,” Miles groaned. “I’ll talk to you later.” After hanging up the phone, Miles looked back to Hunter, who was hovering in front of his desk, rocking on his heels like he couldn’t contain himself a second longer.

“You’re back?” Hunter questioned, surprise and excitement evident in his tone. “Miles, I’m so sorry for everything. I mean that. This company has been a mess without you and I can’t do it alone. I want to get through this together. You’re my brother and it means a lot to me that you’re here.” The words flooded out of his mouth all at once.

Miles’ eyebrows drew together and he pinched his nose. Was Hunter serious? His brother looked like he was about to round the desk and give him a hug before Miles’ words stopped him cold. “I’m not here for you.” 

It was like watching a kicked puppy as all happiness in Hunter’s expression drained from him, replaced by something sadder. Hunter seemed to collect his thoughts before speaking again, much calmer than before. “Okay, I’m just glad you’re here right now.”

Miles couldn’t forget about what Hunter had done to ruin his relationship with Tristan. He couldn’t get past it, not yet. So, the older Hollingsworth looked away, clearing his throat as he shuffled the papers on his desk. “Um, if you need me to look over anything or sign any papers, just shoot me an email or drop it on my desk when I’m not here.” He took a deep breath, lowering his voice. “I can’t look at you right now.”

There was silence and Miles didn’t look up to see Hunter’s glassy eyes and trembling lip. He didn’t need to look to know the hurt would be there. But, Miles couldn’t feel sorry because his brother had damaged him beyond repair and there was no coming back from that. He needed to do what was best for himself right now, and keeping clear of Hunter in the office was exactly that, at least until some of his rage passed. 

“Yeah, whatever you need,” Hunter recovered as he shuffled towards the door. “I’ll forward you the latest CIP from the CSIS jobsite.” Miles gave a short nod in recognition and then Hunter left him to it, giving him the space he requested to sift through his work, playing catch up on everything he’d missed.

 

The buzz of the keurig was a comforting sound in the break room amongst the chatter of a few employees milling around. Miles kept his eyes trained on the dark liquid spewing from the machine into his paper coffee cup, hoping to go unnoticed. He was basically counting down the seconds until his coffee cup filled to the brim and the machine cut off so he could retreat back to the confines of his office.

“Look who’s back!”

Miles clenched his jaw as he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder just as his coffee finished brewing. He shut off the machine and picked up his cup before plastering on a faux smile and turning around. “Hey, what’s up, man?”

It was Anthony, one of the executives that Miles was friends with. He supposed Anthony was the closest person to him in the office, besides his brother of course, and had been with the company since the beginning.

“You know, the usual. Damn, it’s been quiet without you here,” Anthony said.

“Really?”

He burst into a rough laugh. “Hell no! Hunter’s been running rampant doing a two man’s job by himself.”

Miles huffed lightly, shaking his head. His brother deserved all the stress that came with screwing him over.

“You doing okay? I heard about Tristan, you know. That sucks, man. He was a great guy, but hey, you’ll get passed it. Maybe we’ll have to hit up the bar again next week,” Anthony rambled on.

Miles had blanked out at the mention of Tristan, cursing internally how his employees always seemed to know about his personal life. Miles guessed it was his own fault, though, since he’d sort of caused a scene that day when he bitched out Hunter and trashed his office for all of the company to see and hear. Miles hadn’t cared one bit at the time, but now it was coming around to bite him in the ass.

“Yeah, sure,” Miles said, inching towards the door out of the break room. “I better get back to work.” Miles gestured towards the door with a smile, anything to get him out of the conversation. It wasn’t that he didn’t like talking to Anthony. He just couldn’t stand hearing about his ex at work, especially when this was supposed to be his distraction from him. Now, all he could think about was Tristan’s play tonight and the thought of seeing his face again. He needed to see his face again.

“Catch you later,” Anthony said, turning around to open the fridge as Miles exited the break room, oblivious to his boss’ strange behavior.

When Miles got back to his office, the decision had already been made. He told himself he’d go to the Greenwin theatre to see the show and everything Tristan had worked so hard on and directed, not to see the other boy’s face and hear his voice again. He wouldn’t expect any interaction with Tristan, wouldn’t hope that they could reconnect somehow. He was lying to himself.

 

“Ugh, what are you doing here?” Miles asked after opening up the door to his apartment. He was freshly showered and had just pulled on a pair of black jeans to get ready to head to Tristan’s show when he heard a knock at the door.

“You’re never happy to see me,” Frankie pouted as Miles let her inside. She threw her purse on the ground and kicked off her heels causing Miles to roll his eyes.

“You can’t stay long, Franks. I’m getting ready to go out.” Miles started walking back down the hall to his bedroom, his sister following closely behind him.

“Hm, where exactly are you going?” She watched him pull on a dress shirt and raised her eyebrows.

“Out.”

Frankie huffed a breath at his blunt reply before smiling. “You look nice, Miles.”

Miles shifted his eyes suspiciously to his sister from where he was fixing his hair in the mirror on the wall. “Thanks.”

“You’re really not going to tell me where you’re going? Is it a date?”

Miles groaned and turned back to the mirror, brushing back his hair with his fingers. “If you must know, I’m going to see Tristan’s play at the theater.”

Frankie was silent for a moment, taking a seat on his bed as she considered this information. “Did he ask you to come?”

“No. I just— I want to go support him.”

“Wow, that’s nice of you,” Frankie said seriously, picking lint off of her sweater. “You think it’s a good idea?”

Miles crossed the room to grab his shoes from the closet and slip them on, bending over to tie the laces. “Probably not, but what do I got to lose?”

Frankie had sauntered over to his closet, stepping in to begin shuffling through his clothes. “Well, in that case, may I recommend a different shirt?”

Miles straightened, looking down at the blue button-up he’d picked out. “What’s wrong with my shirt?” 

“You’re always wearing blue. It’s boring. Here, try this.” Frankie pulled out a hanger, the shirt wrapped in plastic from the dry cleaners.

“Okay,” Miles agreed. His little sister always seemed to know what was in style and of course he wanted to look his best in front of Tristan. Miles pulled the shirt off the hanger and exchanged it with the blue one.

Frankie grabbed at the grey sleeves of the new dress shirt, rolling them up so they were just below his elbows. “So, I heard you went to work today,” she said coolly, but Miles knew better.

“So, what’d Hunter tell you?”

Frankie sighed. “He’s really happy you’re back. Says you still aren’t talking to him, but at least it’s a step in the right direction. You can’t stay mad at him forever, Miles.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.” Miles pulled away from her grip on his sleeves and crossed the room to put on cologne.

“I’m not trying to fight with you. I just wanted to come by and check on you,” Frankie said as she returned to perch on his bed. “I’m sure it was hard for you to go back to the office.”

Miles turned back to face her and shrugged. “It’s whatever. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Frankie looked his outfit over and smiled, content with the new shirt she’d picked out. “You really look great, Miles. Wait till Tristan sees exactly what he’s missing.”

Miles chuckled, shaking his head lightly at his sister. “Okay, time for you to leave.” He took her hand, pulling her off his bed and nudging her towards the door.

“Alright, alright. I get the hint. I’m leaving,” Frankie giggled, heading out of his bedroom. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay? I don’t need to see you get hurt again.”

Miles screwed his eyes shut. Was it even possible for him to get hurt more than he already was? “Okay, I won’t. Love you, Frankenstein,” Miles said lowly.

“Love you, too, shithead.”

 

The Greenwin theatre never failed to surprise Miles on just how massive and elegant it was on the inside. The dimly lit theater was familiar to him as he had spent many of his lunch breaks there visiting Tristan over the course of their relationship, but it still managed to amaze Miles every time he entered. Now with a full audience filled into the red clothed seats, it appeared even more breathtaking.

Miles took an aisle seat about halfway up from the front, wanting a good view, and remembering how the last time he’d been here for a show he’d sat in the final row out of uncertainty. This time, he was going to pay extra attention to the play, since Tristan directed it all. His ex had somehow changed his viewpoint on the world of theater and acting, Miles gaining a new perspective and appreciation for it entirely. He was interested in all that was put into the play and how much hard work and dedication it really took. He was proud of Tristan.

Miles was nervous, bouncing his legs in his seat as he waited for the show to begin. He hadn’t realized until now exactly what coming here to see Tristan meant. Tristan had broken up with him, given him closure and made it clear that they were over. Miles should be moving on, not still hurting and hanging on to hope that this wasn’t really their ending. He just couldn’t picture his life without Tristan and maybe it was pathetic, but Miles didn’t care. Did he even have a right being here tonight? Yes, he loved Tristan and deserved to show him his support on everything he’d worked so hard on. Even if nothing came of it, Miles couldn’t regret being here tonight at the theater. He’d never regret the months he spent with Tristan, falling in love with him.

The theater darkened, bringing the audience to silence, and the stage lit up as the play began. Miles sat at the edge of seat, paying close attention as the curtains opened and actors started performing. He took notice to every detail on the stage, wanting to take in everything Tristan had put together. He easily lost himself in the performance knowing his ex-boyfriend directed it all.

Miles had kept an eye out for Tristan mindlessly throughout the play, but didn’t spot him until the very end. After the actors had taken their bows and the applause erupted, Tristan walked onto the stage with a glinting smile, and Miles stopped breathing. 

Tristan was dressed in a stunning navy blue suit that fit him perfectly; hair gelled to the side, keeping the dark curls out of his face as he waved and blew kisses to the crowd. Miles watched him take a bow and mouth thank you to the audience with the biggest grin on his face of true happiness. Miles knew that smile. He’d been the source of that smile many times before. 

All of this was because of Tristan. The play, the actors, the crowd, the cheers was all because of him. Miles was so fucking proud that his eyes began to water.

It was all too quickly that Tristan was exiting the stage out of the spotlight with the rest of the actors, and the lights turned on in the theater. Miles blinked, still in a daze on how amazing it’d all been, how great Tristan looked. But, now the other boy was backstage, out of his sight, and Miles needed to see more of him.

Miles stood; wiping his sweaty palms on his dark jeans, and began weaving through the crowd of people. Everyone was heading to the exit of the theater while Miles was moving in the opposite direction, pushing through the crowd to get to those doors that lead to the room backstage, that same room that Miles had kissed Tristan all those months ago, for the first time since high school.

He pushed through the doors, shifting to the side of the room filled with cheerful actors and performers that had just finished their opening night with a success. Miles disregarded the loud praises happening in the room in favor of seeking out Tristan.

Miles scanned the room, eyes locking when he saw a face of a person he never hoped to see again. He had to do a double take, making sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him because this guy should not be here. Making the whole scene even worse was when Miles looked to see whom the built man was talking to, finding it was Tristan, suddenly looking so small and uncomfortable.

James was wearing the same smug smile across the room that Miles remembered, and it made his blood begin to boil. The last time Miles had seen James he was beating the shit out of Tristan and like hell if Miles was going to let him near his ex again. Miles could almost taste the blood in his mouth from that night and hear the deafening sound of James’ foot colliding with Tristan’s torso. All he could think was not again.

Miles crossed the room, coming to stand next to both Tristan and James, keeping his eyes trained on the larger man. “Get away from him. You have no right being here,” he spit out, voice low so other people wouldn’t hear.

“Miles?” Tristan sounded surprised, but Miles couldn’t focus on his voice right now, only protecting him from this abusive man. “What are you doing here?”

James shifted his eyes to Miles and bit out a dark laugh before looking straight back to Tristan. “Seriously, Tristan? You’re still with this joker?”

Miles turned slightly in front of Tristan, putting a hand out against James’ chest so he couldn’t step any closer. “Enough. You need to go.”

James tilted his head to look past Miles at his ex-boyfriend. “I’ll see you around,” he commented with a raise of his eyebrows, almost a threat. Miles watched him turn and walk away, not breaking his eyes from him until James was through the doors.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Tristan’s voice was soft as Miles turned around to face him.

Miles scowled. “I didn’t expect to see _him _here. Are you okay?”__

Tristan shrugged. “I’m fine.” He didn’t sound convincing. “Thank you for getting rid of him, though.”

“Has he been bothering you again? Tristan, you should go to the police.” Miles couldn’t help the spike of worry.

Tristan sighed. “He’s called me a couple times. I didn’t know he was going to show up here at my work on opening night.”

“He can show up to your home and seriously hurt you again, Tristan. You need to do something,” Miles pleaded, only concerned about the other boy’s safety.

Tristan winced, recalling the night outside of his apartment when he was beaten bloody. “I know, Miles. I’ve been staying at a friend’s house just in case. I’ll be okay,” he reassured him.

Miles shook his head and dropped his gaze, angry that James could get away with all this, harassing and abusing Tristan to the point where he didn’t feel safe at home. It wasn’t right.

Tristan seemed to catch on to Miles’ spiraling mood and changed the subject to distract him. “Hey, what’d you think of the play?”

Miles met Tristan’s doe-eyes and immediately softened. “It was amazing, Tris. So fucking amazing that you did all that. I’m so proud of you,” he drawled.

Tristan flashed a small smile that had Miles’ heartbeat picking up, James long forgotten. “Thank you. I mean it’s partly thanks to you. Just had to revise the script, right?”

“Right.” Miles returned the smile. “But, this was all you, Tris. It’s really something impressive.”

A set of arms suddenly wrapped around Tristan’s shoulders from behind, revealing a blonde-haired boy that Miles recalled from seeing acting on stage. “Come on, Tristan. We’re going to get drunk and celebrate!” the boy laughed into Tristan’s ear before turning his eyes to Miles. “Oh, who’s this?”

“You remember Miles,” Tristan said, shrugging out of the boy’s arms casually, expression revealing nothing. “I guess we should get going. Thank you for coming, Miles. It was good to see you,” Tristan spoke, a glint in his eyes as he offered his ex a warm smile.

Miles’ face fell before he recovered and returned the smile with a nod. “Congratulations, Tristan.” 

He felt a pang of jealousy as Tristan walked away with the blonde actor, returning to the larger group of cast members huddled together, laughing and joking with them. Grace was right. It was a bad idea for him to come here and expect anything to happen differently. Tristan had moved on. This was their end. 

Once back inside his car, Miles wiped at his stinging eyes, wishing the tears would finally stop flowing and he could be happy again, or even just out of pain. “Un-fucking-likely,” he muttered under his breath, nearly laughing at himself as he started his car and drove home.

 

Upon returning to his apartment, Miles changed out of his dress clothes into a tank top and sweatpants, and settled onto the couch, turning on the TV with a beer in hand. He relaxed into the cushions, kicking his feet up as he watched the hockey game on TV, enjoying an ice-cold beer. Miles was barely lounging for fifteen minutes when he heard a hard knock on his door.

He was a little puzzled, not having been expecting anybody, as he set his beer down on the coffee table and stood up to go answer the door. Pulling it open, Miles was even more confused when he saw Tristan standing there, still dressed in his navy suit and looking almost out of breath.

“Wha— Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with the cast?” Miles questioned, eyebrows furrowed together, having no idea why Tristan was at his apartment.

Tristan shook his head, breaking into a wide smile. “No.”

Before Miles knew it, Tristan surged forward, throwing his arms around his neck and connecting their lips in a searing hot kiss that took Miles’ breath away.


	19. A Strange Sense of Hope

Miles’ body moved on it’s own accord, as his lips molded with Tristan’s and his hands snaked around his back to hold him close. His mouth was overrun by Tristan’s tongue as the other boy steered them further inside the apartment, Miles barely registering the sound of the door slamming shut behind them. 

There were no thoughts, only feelings of how effective Tristan’s kissing was and how amazing his body felt pressed against his. Miles belonged here, moaning into Tristan’s mouth and using his hands and tongue to the best of his ability.

His legs hit the back of something. The couch, was it? Then Miles was pushed down to lay on the leather, Tristan right behind him, falling to hover on top of him, reconnecting their mouths and flicking his tongue like wonders inside. 

Tristan’s hands were cold as they traveled under Miles’ shirt, feeling his heated skin, pushing the fabric of his tank top further up to expose his abdomen. Miles was turning into mush under Tristan’s hands and body, his arms falling weak to grip onto Tristan’s ass and pull him down closer, feeling their crotches touch and legs slot together. Miles whimpered.

Tristan’s mouth was gone momentarily before latching onto his neck, sucking and nipping, marking Miles’ skin. Miles’ head fell back, suddenly too heavy to hold up and his mouth fell open. Was this actually happening or was Miles imagining this? He’d never thought he’d get to touch this boy again, and now here Tristan was, on top of him and kissing him senseless. It’d been way too long apart. “Tris,” he sighed.

Then, blue eyes were on his, open and honest, puffy red lips parted slightly. “You’re incredible, Miles.”

Miles stared back, green eyes on blue, just as open and vulnerable. And in that moment, it didn’t matter if Miles’ heart would still be broken tomorrow and if Tristan was just using him for sex. Miles would take all the heartache and grief over and over again for one more night with Tristan. He loved him enough to forget about his heart and own wellbeing, to be with Tristan again even if it was just once, even if Tristan wanted nothing more from him than a hookup. One more time, one last time.

Miles pulled Tristan down by the nape of his neck and kissed him, kissed him like he was suffocating and Tristan’s mouth was oxygen. Tristan kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm, grinding down on him with purpose, continuing to push Miles’ tank top up further and further until it bunched up under his arms.

Tristan disconnected, sitting up on his knees to help Miles out of his shirt, before Miles shifted forward and began pulling Tristan’s suit jacket off, tossing it to the floor in a heap. “Too many clothes,” Miles grumbled, earning a chuckle from Tristan. He moved onto the white button-up, fingers tearing through the buttons as he tried to get them undone as fast as possible, popping some in the process. Tristan shook out of the sleeves, throwing it to the side and looking at Miles with a heated gaze full of lust and want. Miles mirrored his expression, letting his eyes follow down Tristan’s body, over his pale shirtless figure and the unmistakable bulge in his dress pants. Man, had he missed this.

Tristan bent forward to kiss him again, Miles’ hands meeting the warm flesh of Tristan’s torso and chest, tracing lines to his back, up and down as he rememorized every curve and every dip. Miles loved Tristan’s body, had never met anyone with a better body than this guy on top of him.

Tristan’s hand ran down to palm him through his sweatpants, Miles releasing an embarrassingly needy gasp at the contact and bucked his hips. Tristan laughed into his mouth, kissing him and moving his hand to the elastic band of the sweatpants, nudging them down.

Miles pulled back then, Tristan’s eyes finding his, soft and concerned. “You okay?” Tristan asked, reaching with his free hand to thumb at Miles’ kiss-swollen bottom lip. Miles hadn’t been okay, not in awhile, not since the breakup, but he was now. He was finally okay. Tristan would take care of him.

“Bedroom,” Miles said, voice wrecked as he looked into Tristan’s eyes. Miles would let this boy take him apart any day, would give up everything for him. He wanted this.

Tristan’s body was off him, pulling Miles onto wobbly legs and steering him through the living room, past the kitchen and down the short hallway to the bedroom. Miles latched onto Tristan’s hand like his life depended on it, like if he let go, Tristan might not be there.

Once in the bedroom, Tristan turned to face Miles, wincing slightly at the tight grip and loosening Miles’ fingers with his other hand before pulling his body close. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” Tristan said softly, meaningfully as if he could read Miles’ mind. 

_You said that last time _, Miles thought, watching Tristan’s hand reach up to brush through his hair. But, he didn’t say it, didn’t want to kill the mood. He wanted to focus on now. And right now, Tristan was shirtless and horny before him.__

Miles kissed him, bringing back that spark between them, taking the upper hand and pushing Tristan to sit on the bed. Miles fell to his knees in front of him, fumbling to unbuckle Tristan’s belt, pulling down his pants and boxers to sit at his ankles. 

Miles took Tristan’s erection by the base and looked up at him, mouth practically watering. He needed a sign, something from Tristan to know that this was what he wanted, that this was okay.

Tristan looked at him for a moment, sensing and misreading the hesitation before saying, “Only if you want to.”

Miles couldn’t help the laugh that broke through his lips. Fuck, of course he wanted to. He’d always want to. He watched Tristan smile, followed by a blush to his cheeks before Miles dipped his head down to lick a stripe from base to tip up his shaft and take him into his mouth.

Miles sucked on the head, flicking his tongue around the slit, eyes locked on Tristan to gauge his reaction. He slipped down, lips tight and mouth wet as he took as much of Tristan as he could, which was pretty much all of it, keeping his tongue pressed firmly to the underside.

“Fuck,” Tristan whispered, hips twitching and pupils blown. “So good, Miles. So, fuck—”

Miles bobbed his head, setting a quick pace with his mouth, holding Tristan’s thighs down against the mattress. He ignored the ache in his throat, the sting in his eyes, when he took Tristan too deep, because this boy was worth it. His dick was amazing, tasted amazing, and Miles never wanted any other.

Miles took in the breathy gasps and moans coming out of Tristan’s mouth, loving that he was the reason behind them, releasing his own hum of approval around Tristan’s cock. He slowed up, working his tongue and hollowing his cheeks, breathing heavily through his nose.

“Miles— You gotta—” Tristan couldn’t even get words out, hand falling to the back of Miles’ head, gripping his hair to lightly pull him back.

Miles got the idea and pulled off Tristan’s dick, wiping his mouth free from all spit and pre-cum with the back of his hand, watching Tristan catch his breath.

“Don’t wanna come, yet,” Tristan explained and Miles smiled, shifting his hands to pull off Tristan’s shoes and slide his pants and boxers the rest of the way off.

Miles got to his feet as Tristan shifted back on the bed, propping himself up on his forearms to stare at Miles. “Good, I wasn’t ready for you to,” Miles said teasingly, pushing his sweatpants and boxers down and stepping out of them. He kept his eyes on Tristan while doing so, watching the other boy’s eyes rake down his body, pausing at his crotch.

“Get over here, then,” Tristan said with a grin, eyes flicking up to meet Miles’ with desire.

Miles didn’t need to be told twice, crawling onto the bed to hover over Tristan, dipping down to kiss him, pushing his tongue into his mouth. He let his body rest on top of Tristan’s, slowly moving his hips to grind against him as they made out, the other boy raising his hips to meet him halfway. Tristan opened his legs to allow Miles to settle between them, the grinding picking up until both boys couldn’t take another minute of foreplay.

“Lube,” Tristan mumbled as he pulled away before reeling right back in to kiss Miles again, like he just couldn’t help himself. Miles smiled against his lips, this time being the one to pull away and reach for the nightstand.

He opened the top drawer, easily finding the tube of lube, pausing when he caught a glimpse of the roll of condoms buried deeper. They hadn’t used condoms for a while, but things were different now. They weren’t together; meaning Tristan could sleep with whomever he wanted.

Miles looked back to Tristan as a sudden fear washed over him, hand lingering by the drawer. “Have you—” The question caught in Miles’ throat because he didn’t even have the strength to ask it, scared of what the answer might be. He didn’t want to know, didn’t want to think about Tristan being with anyone else, but him.

Once again, Tristan seemed to know exactly what he was trying to say. “No,” came his quick and honest reply. Tristan shook his head and Miles immediately released a sigh of relief, closing the nightstand drawer with just the bottle of lube in hand. “You haven’t, right?” Tristan asked, a waver of doubt in his voice.

“Of course not,” Miles reassured him, leaning in to kiss him again. He would never want anyone else. Ending the kiss, Miles asked the one last question playing on his mind. “Top or bottom?”

It took Tristan a second to open his sparkling eyes, a smile breaking across his face as he found his answer. “Bottom.”

Miles opened the cap to the lube, squirting a generous amount onto his fingers before tossing the tube to the side. He hitched Tristan’s leg up higher around his hip with his un-slicked hand, reaching behind with the other to circle his hole with a wet finger.

Miles gave Tristan a sloppy kiss as he slipped a finger inside, slowly working it in and out, swallowing Tristan’s gasp as he quirked it. He added a second finger, sucking on Tristan’s bottom lip and scissoring his fingers to stretch him. It’d been nearly a month since Tristan bottomed, and Miles wanted to make sure he was stretched good, taking his time to add a third finger despite both of their impatience. 

“Miles—” Tristan’s whine cut off with a gasp. “I’m good. I’m ready.”

Miles bit back a chuckle, pulling his fingers out and rocking back to sit on his heels between Tristan’s legs, eyes locked with Tristan. He stroked his fully hard dick slowly with his slicked hand, watching Tristan squirm at the now emptiness. “You’re so hot,” Miles praised, looking at nothing but Tristan’s face. “So good for me,” he said lower.

Miles leaned forward again, hitching Tristan’s legs over his shoulders for a better angle and lining up with his hole. He slowly pushed in until he bottomed out, eyes on Tristan the whole time, watching his face flush with pleasure.

“Fuck,” Miles breathed as he held inside of Tristan, ass so tight and perfect around him. It felt so fucking good. Miles had almost forgotten how good sex was with Tristan.

Miles held for a moment longer before feeling Tristan shift beneath him and clench. Miles groaned. Then, he was pulling back out and pushing back in, setting a deep pace that left him falling apart with each thrust into Tristan.

Tristan’s breath caught and his hands moved around Miles’ upper back, feeling the tight muscles and scraping blunt nails down his skin, pulling him impossibly closer as Miles continued plowing into him. “Fuck, I missed you, Miles. Missed you so much,” Tristan babbled.

Miles tried to comprehend what Tristan was saying, registering the words and dipping his head to kiss him. Their tongues trailed together, quieting all grunts of enjoyment, breathing gasps of air into each other’s mouths as Miles picked up the pace. 

Miles dropped his lips to Tristan’s neck, kissing and trailing his teeth against the glistening skin. “So tight, Tris. So good, babe,” Miles moaned without filter, so far gone in the sensation of Tristan around him as he moved his hips fast.

“Miles,” Tristan breathed softly, barely audible, but Miles looked up, meeting his gaze and reaching to brush the dark lock of hair back that had fallen into his face. Looking into his eyes, Miles knew what Tristan needed, slowing his hips to allow the other boy to lower his legs to wrap loosely around Miles’ waist, ankles locking behind him.

Placing his hands in the mattress on either side of Tristan’s head, Miles rocked forward, hitting that spot that had Tristan crying out and twisting his hands into the sheets, eyes fluttering shut. 

“You okay?” Miles asked with a smug smile and Tristan moaned for him to keep going.

Tristan groaned loudly with each thrust as Miles continued to hit his prostate, driving the both of them closer and closer to the edge. “Why’d we- Why’d we ever stop? You’re so good to me, perfect for me,” Tristan said amongst the gasps and moans, Miles too close to climax to even begin to think about the breakup and why they were no longer together. Instead, Miles reached between their bodies to take hold of Tristan’s leaking cock and begin jerking him to match the pace of his thrusts. 

Miles was almost there, could feel his orgasm about to overcome his body and he dropped his mouth to kiss Tristan again, lips barely working properly. Miles stopped kissing to lock eyes with Tristan, as he started rambling through gasps. “Fuck— Tris, I— I love you,” he blurted and let go. 

Miles’ hips stilled as he came hard, buried deep inside Tristan, groaning out his name and continuing to work Tristan’s dick to the best of his ability through the pleasure ringing through him. Thankfully, Tristan was right behind him, feet digging into Miles’ back, shooting his load between them with a moan that left Miles weak and falling on top of Tristan to crush their mouths together.

When he felt he had kissed Tristan sufficiently for the time being, Miles pulled out, rolling to the side of the bed next to Tristan. He lied on his back to stare at the ceiling, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, letting the euphoric feeling from the orgasm wash over him.

He turned his head to the side to look at Tristan who had his eyes closed peacefully, stomach and chest painted with white stripes of cum. Miles smiled and rolled out of bed, standing on shaky legs and reaching above his head to stretch his body until his joints popped. He sighed contentedly and crossed the room to the bathroom, flipping on the light as he entered.

Miles turned on the sink, rinsing his hands under the stream of water before looking at his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing a dopey smile; hair mussed from the sex and spurts of Tristan’s cum dribbled on his stomach. He was the happiest he’d been in weeks and Miles knew he had no right to be. _This didn’t mean anything _, Miles reminded himself. _It was just sex.___

But, it wasn’t for Miles and he knew he’d be crushed tomorrow when Tristan left with no intentions of getting back together. However, Miles didn’t regret it, would never regret it. He’d take all the pain over and over again for one night with that boy. Being with Tristan made it all worth it.

Miles grabbed a washcloth and put it under the warm tap, squeezing out the access water before wiping the dried cum off him. He rinsed the towel and shut off the water, heading back out to the bedroom to clean Tristan off.

“Thank you,” Tristan whispered as Miles finished dragging the wet washcloth over his chest, tossing it onto the nightstand to deal with tomorrow. Tristan grabbed onto Miles’ arm, shifting over in the bed to pull the other boy down to lay with him.

Miles climbed into bed next to Tristan, pulling the comforter over the two of them and wrapping his arms around him to hold him close. Tristan tipped his head up and Miles kissed him soft and sweet before they both settled and closed their eyes. Miles trailed his hand lightly up and down Tristan’s back, listening to his even breathing that eventually lulled him to sleep, just as it used to every night before the breakup.

 

Miles awoke to the sun blaring through the glass windows of his bedroom, figuring he must have forgotten to close the blinds the following night. Squinting into the light and rubbing at his eyes, immediately his mind flickered with memories of Tristan, good memories of kissing and sex and cuddling. Had it all been a dream?

He rolled onto his side, suddenly hyperaware of the sleeping body in bed beside him, hogging the comforter on the cold February morning. Miles smiled because it was one of those rare mornings he woke up before Tristan. 

Throughout their relationship, there had only been a handful of times that Miles had woken up first, being the heavier sleeper, and it always brought him pure happiness to see his boyfriend’s sleeping face first thing in the morning. It was the best thing to wake up to and today was no different, despite the lack of formal relationship between the two. 

Miles traced his eyes over the dark hair clinging in some parts to Tristan’s forehead and sticking up in others, his face pale, hinted purple eyelids closed and pink lips parted, light hickey’s splotching his neck, chest rising and falling beneath the comforter. He looked so calm, so innocent and beautiful. Miles reached over to trail his hand softly through Tristan’s hair, never wanting to let go of this boy. He loved every part about him, wouldn’t change a thing if he could.

But, Tristan wasn’t his anymore and Miles suddenly felt like he was overstepping, shifting his hand to pull the comforter further up around Tristan’s neck before letting go.

Miles got out of bed, walking to the window to close the blinds and then to the thermostat to crank up the heat. He found his phone in the pocket of his discarded sweatpants and checked the time.

It was nearly nine, Miles realizing he was going to be late to work on only his second day back. Did he care? No. He hadn’t planned his meeting with CSIS to go over some things he’d missed in his absence until ten, so that gave him plenty of time to get to the office.

Miles headed to the bathroom, closing the door behind him and turning on the shower. He waited for the water to heat up before stepping in; letting the steam warm his body and loosen his muscles. He washed quickly and shut off the water, getting out to towel off and slip on a clean pair of boxers.

Miles went about his morning routine to ready himself for work, shaving his face and brushing his teeth, applying deodorant and cologne, combing his hair. Then, he left the bathroom, eyes landing on Tristan still asleep in the bed. Miles was quiet as he went to the closet, putting on dress pants, a long-sleeved button-up, and a tie. He didn’t want to disturb the sleeping boy, briefly wondering if Tristan was getting enough sleep at night and if it had anything to do with the return of James. He’d said he was staying at a friend’s, but it still made Miles nervous.

After lacing his shoes, Miles padded into the kitchen, powering on the keurig to brew himself a cup of coffee. He tried not to think about Tristan and their night together, knowing it didn’t mean anything and would probably never happen again. It sucked and Miles knew he’d be back to square one, full of heartbreak and grief. But, that was something he’d deal with later, after Tristan was gone. 

Sitting down at the counter, Miles sighed into his cup of coffee, letting the caffeine work through his system and wake up his body, mentally preparing for work and his meeting with CSIS.

He looked up from the dark liquid when he heard Tristan approaching, just like old times in nothing but boxers. Miles smiled softly. “Good morning.”

Tristan returned the smile, coming to stand across the counter from Miles, taking in his appearance as he stifled a yawn. “You’re back at work?”

Miles shrugged and took a sip from the mug in his hand. “Second day. Want me to make you a cup of coffee?”

“I can do it,” Tristan chuckled and moved to open the cabinet and take out a mug. “I’m glad you’re working again.”

Miles stayed quiet as the keurig began brewing, spewing out coffee with a hum. He waited till Tristan was standing in front of him again, cup of steaming coffee in hand. “Did you sleep well?”

Tristan took a sip from the mug before setting it on the counter and leaning forward on his forearms, closer to Miles. “Yeah, best I have in a while actually.” Miles swallowed hard, eyes flickering to where Tristan’s hand was reaching across the counter, fingers brushing against his softly. “Look, Miles, about last night—”

With those words, reality came crashing back to Miles and he pulled his hand away, knowing last night and this morning were all to good to be true. He knew Tristan was letting him down easy and Miles cut him off, looking away, anywhere but at the boy in front of him. “Tristan, don’t,” Miles sighed and he could feel the confusion on Tristan’s face without seeing it. “You don’t have to— I mean, last night— If you want to walk away and pretend it never happened, you can. You don’t owe me anything. I didn’t mind being used as a booty call.”

There was silence for a moment before Tristan spoke, sadly. “Is that what you want?”

Miles looked back, eyes meeting Tristan’s sparkling ones. “You know what I want.”

Tristan lowered his voice, reaching back across the counter to touch Miles’ hand again. “Last night, that wasn’t a booty call, Miles.”

“Then, what was it?”

Miles watched Tristan’s eyes glisten over with tears as he struggled to find words, finally settling on a choked out, “I don’t know.”

Miles sighed, looking down at his coffee and rubbing his nose, holding back any emotion that was threatening to surface. It was confusing and he couldn’t think about this now. “I have a meeting I have to get to.”

“Miles.”

He stood up, downing the rest of his coffee and rounding the counter to wash it in the sink. When he shut off the tap and turned back around, Tristan was right there, placing a hand on his hip and guiding him into a kiss that left Miles’ heart thrumming in his chest. 

“Just, don’t give up on me. We’ll talk about this,” Tristan whispered into the space between their lips as he separated from the kiss.

Miles looked into his eyes, deep and honest before nodding. He leaned back in to kiss Tristan softly again, then pulled away from the other boy’s hand. “I’ll uh— get you some clothes to borrow so you don’t have to make the walk of shame back in your suit,” Miles teased, heading out of the kitchen to grab clothes for Tristan from his bedroom.

“It wouldn’t be a shame. I’d own it,” Tristan chuckled lightly, making Miles smile.

After Tristan got changed and gathered his clothes thrown across the apartment from last night, the two boys headed downstairs, pausing on the sidewalk outside the apartment building to say goodbye.

“Enjoy work. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Tristan said, hopeful.

Miles offered a small smile and nod. “Have a good day, Tris.”

Tristan stepped forward to press a quick kiss on his temple. Then, he was turning in the opposite direction and heading down the street.

Miles shook his head to clear his mind as he got into his car. This whole situation was so confusing and he wasn’t sure what would happen with the two of them. Did Tristan want to get back together? Did he just want to be friends with benefits? What had changed since a couple weeks ago? Miles was still really hurt from the break up, but Tristan would always have a place in his heart to come back to if he wanted. Miles would always love him. The real question was what did Tristan want?

For the first time in a long time, he had real hope. But, hope was a dangerous thing.

He couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus on work. So, Miles turned the key in the ignition, threw the car in drive, and headed towards HCC.

 

“Mr. Hollingsworth,” the CSIS representative greeted, “It’s been awhile.”

Miles stood up from his chair in the conference room, reaching across the table to shake the older man’s hand. “I apologize about my short leave of absence, sir. There was an unannounced personal matter I needed to attend to.”

The rep raised his eyebrows at that as they both took their seats. “You’re lucky your brother was able to account for the both of you, although things did get a little disorganized.”

Hunter cleared his throat in the seat beside Miles. “We’re both here now and monitoring the construction on the CSIS jobsite very closely. Everything looks to be in place.”

“Yes. Now, when CSIS hired Hollingsworth Construction, we were under the impression that you would both be in attendance and directed during the duration of the construction period. We took a risk hiring two youthful business partners and we’re counting on you two to finish the job together. Can that be done?”

Miles swallowed, letting the representatives words settle in the air. It was suddenly too warm in the conference room and he pulled on the collar of his shirt to loosen it before speaking. “I can assure you that the CSIS project has been the primary focus of HCC since we signed the contract and my brother and I have every intention to finish it to the highest of standards, sir. Yes, I took a short leave of absence, but I am here now to work hard beside Hunter to get the job built and finished by the deadline. You have our word. The Hollingsworths will get it done right.”

The CSIS representative nodded, flipping the page of his legal pad in front of him. “That’s what we like to hear. Hunter, why don’t you begin updating us on the progress over the past two weeks?”

“Absolutely.” With that, Hunter jumped into the real reason for holding this meeting He turned on the monitor behind them, playing a slideshow of pictures showing the construction on the jobsite. He went into extensive detail on the construction and headways they’ve made, the representative and Miles jumping in when they could to add perspective and other information. 

By the end, they all had new notes and references from the meeting and agreed to be in the right place to continue construction at the CSIS site. They stood up, both brothers shaking hands with the representative and thanking him for his time.

“We’ll be in touch,” the CSIS rep addressed them, before exiting the conference room, leaving the two business partners alone.

Miles and Hunter both released loud sighs, leaning back in their swivel chairs, always being relieved when a stressful conference meeting with a client was over.

“I think it went well,” Hunter commented, glancing at his brother from the corner of his eye as he propped his feet on the marble conference table. “I liked that bit about the Hollingsworth brother’s getting the job done right.”

Miles could feel his brother’s smile as he shrugged indifferently. He was honestly just saying it to get the rep off his back about being absent. Hunter and him had once been a team, unstoppable together when it came to the business. They didn’t feel like a team anymore.

Miles felt Hunter’s eyes on him, then his hand reaching out to pull the collar of Miles’ dress shirt to the side. Miles scowled and batted his brother’s hand away. “What are you doing?”

Hunter pulled his hand back, cocking an eyebrow at his brother. “You finally rebounded,” he said casually, maybe a little surprised.

Miles looked at him confused, wondering where Hunter had gotten that crazy idea. Then, it clicked and he figured Hunter had spotted a fresh mark on his neck from Tristan last night. Miles cursed at himself for loosening his collar in the first place and shook his head. “I didn’t rebound. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Hunter stared at him blankly for a second before raising his eyebrows. “Tristan?”

Miles sighed, pushing back from the table. “It’s still a fucked up relationship, if I can even call it that, thanks to you. So, just stay out of it. I’m not talking about it with you. The damage is done.” He stood up, heading towards the door.

“Miles,” Hunter said, causing his brother to stop halfway. “I am sorry about what I did and I hope you and Tristan can get passed it.” His voice was soft and truthful, almost making Miles stutter as he glanced back. “You two are good for each other.”

There was a pause before Miles found a response. “Just get back to work,” he said, voice hard and then he was walking out of the conference room to the privacy of his office. He didn’t want to listen to anymore of Hunter’s bullshit.

 

Miles had worked well past office hours, finishing up all the paperwork that had stacked up on his desk in his absence from the company. Ranging from payroll to progress reports, new bids to company agendas, the amount of paperwork seemed endless as Miles sifted through it, signing and marking, emailing and dating. The sun had long set, all other employees gone, when Miles finally reached the bottom of the stack.

He gathered his briefcase, ready to head home and order some takeout before crashing for the night. He was exhausted from his long workday and needed to rest.

Miles was just locking up the office, setting the security passcode on the system, when his cellphone began to ring. He finished locking the HCC door before fishing his phone from his pocket and glancing at the number calling, a number he didn’t recognize.

He was about to decline the call and shove it back in his pocket, but figured he better answer in case it was CSIS or something else business related.

“Miles Hollingsworth,” he answered the call.

“Miles, it’s me.”

He was surprised to hear his brother’s voice on the line, sounding muffled and troubled. Why was his brother calling him from a different number? “Hunter?” Miles questioned.

“You better come down to the police station,” Hunter breathed out, worrying Miles. “Tristan’s here.”


	20. Compromise

Miles yanked open the heavy doors to the police station, the cold wind following his body into the building as he rushed inside. He didn’t know what was going on, had only listened to Hunter’s brief explanation on the phone before immediately heading from his office to the station.

The station was busy, police officers walking this way and that, women behind the desk filling out paperwork, lawyers with briefcases heading around back. Miles scanned the large room, around the chairs where people were tiredly waiting, eyes landing on Tristan and Hunter slouched into seats in the back corner.

Miles bolted in Tristan’s direction, kneeling in front of the boy sitting on a chair. “Jesus, Tristan, what happened? Are you okay?” Miles reached up to cup his face; thumb smoothing over the dark red mark on his temple from a hit. Miles bit back his anger, knowing exactly who had hit Tristan but only wanting to show his concern and worry right now for the other boy.

Tristan shrugged out of his hands, eyes meeting his blankly. “I’m fine.”

“Where is he?” Miles practically growled, looking around, ready to stand up and pummel James the first chance he got, but Tristan held him down.

“Miles, stop.” Tristan put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place. “Your brother handled it.”

Miles frowned, seeing Hunter shuffle in his peripheral vision and looked to him for the first time since getting there.

Miles’ eyes widened as he took in his brother. Hunter looked far worse than Tristan, dried blood around his nose and on his lip, a darkening eye. Hunter brought his hand up to rub at his split lip, Miles’ eyes shifting down to his bloody knuckles and then to the shiny handcuffs around his wrists. Miles would have laughed in any other scenario, but not when Tristan was involved.

“You should’ve seen the other guy,” Hunter said cockily, rolling his wrists against the metal cuffs.

“What the fuck, Hunter?” Miles breathed. None of this made sense to him. Hunter had fought James?

“What? No thank you for protecting your boyfriend? I mean the guy seemed like a real ass and probably deserved a good punch either way, but when I saw him hurting Tristan,” Hunter took a breath, shaking his head slightly before rubbing at his split knuckles. “Damn, his face was fucking hard.”

“Trust me, I know.” Miles was having a hard time comprehending the situation, his mind drawing up blanks. He had so many questions, but didn’t know which ones to ask first. “Why were you there?”

Hunter sighed, dropping his gaze from Miles. “Look, I know you told me to stay out of it, but I went to Tristan’s to apologize to him, to tell him I was wrong about the two of you. I thought I owed him at least that after fucking up your relationship. But, anyways, when I got there, this guy had his hands around Tristan’s neck in the hallway of the apartment and I had to step in. Tristan called the police before the fight could get too ugly.”

Horror flooded through Miles at that image and he looked to Tristan, suddenly feeling sick as his eyes traced over the faint marks resembling fingers around his neck, amongst the hickey’s Miles had left there last night. “He choked you?” Miles croaked in revulsion.

Tristan looked at him, eyes glassing over with tears, before looking away without a word. He didn’t need to say a word.

“Where is he?”

“Around back being charged for assault. They didn’t want to keep us in the same room,” Hunter said, nonchalantly.

“And you?” Miles asked, gesturing to the handcuffs on his wrists. He knew it would be a nightmare if Hunter were charged, if it made the news, if their dad found out. It would definitely not be good for the company image. Did he need to call their lawyer?

“Sounds like they’re going to let me go. I was defending a friend,” Hunter replied, nudging Tristan with his elbow lightly.

Tristan barely responded, causing Miles to scowl. This wasn’t like him, the quietness, the non-responsiveness. He couldn’t even look at Miles.

Miles dropped his hand from Tristan’s face to his knee, to hold him there. He’d get him to talk later, when they were alone and out of the station, but not now.

“This can’t keep happening,” Miles whispered, more to himself than anyone. Tristan couldn’t keep living in fear of his ex, being attacked by him, not safe at his own apartment.

“I know,” Hunter said, like he agreed, like he cared about Tristan just as much as Miles did. He reached forward, placing a cuffed hand on Miles’ shoulder for a moment before pulling it back. “He’s gonna file a restraining order to make sure it doesn’t.” 

An officer approached them then, amongst Miles’ surprise at his brother’s assertiveness. Miles stood up, moving his hand to Tristan’s shoulder, rubbing softly to the back of his neck in comfort.

“Alright, looks like you’re free to go Mr. Hollingsworth,” the officer addressed, reaching for Hunter’s wrists with a key to unlock the cuffs. “You can pick up your personal items at the desk and they’ll be a couple things for Mr. Milligan to sign regarding the restraining order.” 

The cuffs opened off Hunter’s wrists and he rubbed at them to ease the stiffness. “Thank you, officer.”

Miles followed Hunter and Tristan silently to the desk, watching his brother sign a couple documents before being handed back a bag of his things, including his phone, wallet and car keys. Tristan was then handed a paper to fill out and sign, and he did so without a word before handing it back to the police women behind the desk.

“Let’s get out of here,” Miles said, taking Tristan’s hand and following his brother out of the police station. It was a short walk down the street to where Miles had parked, and the three got into the Beemer, Tristan in the passenger seat.

“Can you drop me by Tristan’s apartment? My car’s there,” Hunter asked from the backseat and Miles nodded.

He started the car and blasted the heat before pulling onto the road and heading uptown. The drive was awfully silent, Miles not knowing what to say and mostly fuming to himself about the whole situation. What if Hunter hadn’t been there to protect Tristan?

He pulled up in front of Tristan’s apartment, listening to his brother open the back door and climb out of the car, registering Tristan staying put next to him. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Miles said after Hunter slammed the door shut.

Miles followed his brother out of the car, closing the door behind him and walking a few feet away to where Hunter’s Audi was parked. “You gonna be okay?” Miles asked as Hunter turned to face him.

Hunter waved him off with a little smile, brushing his fingers across his bloody nose and split lip. “Ah, this? It’s nothing.”

Miles looked at him, nodding silently before speaking. “Thank you.”

The smile slowly faded from Hunter’s face and he shrugged. “He’s family.”

The short explanation hit Miles, overwhelming him with emotion and making him tear up. Tristan was their family. Miles nodded, closing the distance to pull his brother into a hug. Hunter had protected Tristan, had maybe saved his life and Miles was so grateful for that. It suddenly didn’t matter about the lies Hunter had told to cause their breakup, because he really did care about the two of them. He had changed for the better.

Hunter gasped in surprise before he relaxed into Miles’ embrace and hugged him back tightly. “Just take care of him, yeah? He looks like he’s seen a ghost. He needs you,” Hunter mumbled against Miles’ jacket. 

Miles pulled back, wiping at his eyes, nodding. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Ice your knuckles.” He ruffled his little brother’s hair, giving a small smile, knowing he needed to get back to Tristan. “Love you, bro.”

Hunter smiled, stepping back and reaching in his pocket for his car keys. “Love you, too.”

Then, Miles walked back to his running car, climbing in and shutting the door softly behind him. “My place?” he asked the boy sitting beside him, knowing Tristan shouldn’t be alone and not wanting to leave him.

“Yes.”

 

It was a quiet drive back to Miles’ apartment, quiet as they entered the building and took the elevator to Miles’ floor, quiet as they entered his apartment, taking off their coats and toeing out of their shoes.

Miles watched Tristan look around, anywhere but at him. It worried him and he knew he couldn’t go another night without talking to Tristan. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Are you hungry or thirsty? You want me to get you anything?” Miles asked and Tristan shook his head, causing Miles to sigh. “Tris, you need to talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say,” Tristan replied dully.

“Bullshit there’s nothing to say,” Miles snapped, regretting it when he saw the look on Tristan’s face as he turned to face him.

“What do you want to hear, Miles? That my ex showed up at my apartment and tried to suffocate me? That my other ex’s brother had to be the one to save me because I can’t stand up for myself?” Tristan was fuming and Miles could tell.

Miles should have been focusing on the events of that night, how Tristan’s run-in with James must have been affecting him. But, there was a bigger elephant in the room and Miles needed answers. “That’s all I am to you? If I’m just your ex-boyfriend why are you here then?” Miles matched Tristan’s increasing volume, angry and confused.

“Fine, I’ll go,” Tristan said, scowling and turning towards the door. That wasn’t what Miles wanted.

“No, Tristan,” Miles reached out, grabbing his arm to stop him. “I’m just trying to understand! You broke up with me and then you showed up last night and you said things— and I’m just confused!”

“So am I!” Tristan yelled, pulling out of his grasp, but staying put in front of him. “I’m sick of giving up everything for other people! I’m sick of being sad all the time when you make me happy! I want to be selfish for once!”

“No one made you break up with me, Tristan! You chose that! Everything was great between us and you ruined that. You abandoned me and I needed you!” Miles knew those were cutting words, but it was the truth. Tristan had hurt him, maybe beyond repair and Miles didn’t know how he was supposed to trust him again.

Tristan stepped forward, getting in Miles’ face, his own face turned red. “I did if for you, for your brother, for your company! I did what I thought was best for you! Not what was best for me.”

Tristan was crying, but so was Miles. Both of them angry and fighting with each other, for each other, getting out everything they’d kept locked inside over the past few weeks. They were both so aggravated with the situation, confused with where their future together stood.

“Why? I never asked you to do that! I never asked you to break my heart! Why give it all up if that was what you wanted?” Miles wiped his face, hurting and still not understanding. None of this made sense. “Why bother doing what you thought was best for me? Why come back now?”

“Because I love you!”

Those words shut Miles right up, taking him by surprise as he stared wide-eyed at Tristan, mouth gaping. “What?” he stuttered.

“I love you, Miles! I only wanted what’s best for you and I’m sorry I listened to your brother and I’m sorry I hurt you. But, I love you and I don’t want to spend another day without you!” Tristan rubbed his eyes, clearing the tears, still sounding pissed off, but Miles didn’t care.

Miles stepped forward to kiss Tristan, pushing the other boy against the wall behind him, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss with lust and love. He took Tristan’s breath away, who kissed him back with just as much passion, until he pulled away gasping for air.

“I love you, too,” Miles said before Tristan was kissing him heatedly again and stripping him of his clothes.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom, both of them needing to feel each other, wanting to love each other, scrambling to get out of their clothes. They ended up fucking on the couch in the living area, but it didn’t really matter, both too needy and impatient to move elsewhere. 

The make-up sex was slow but deep, hot and meaningful as both boys unraveled, giving themselves up to each other. They tried to draw it out, but neither of them lasted, too keyed up from their argument and the ongoing sexual tension between the two since the breakup.

“I love you,” Tristan groaned out before he let go, kissing Miles hard as they both came. It was all Miles needed to hear.

Miles let his body fall on top of Tristan as they made out post-orgasms, tongues trailing lazily together and hands still wandering each other’s bodies. They were both much more relaxed now that they’d gotten out all the built-up anger and frustration towards each other.

When their lips broke, Miles nuzzled into Tristan’s neck; placing soft kisses against the marks James had left with his fingers, righting the wrong.

Tristan trembled and Miles pulled back to look at him, getting lost in those blue eyes. “He’s never going to touch you again,” Miles promised him and Tristan nodded tentatively. Miles kissed his forehead and then sat up, shifting on the couch to give Tristan room to sit up also.

“Miles?” Tristan said, watching the other boy pick his boxers off the ground and begin pulling them on.

Miles looked back as he lifted his hips to pull them over his waist and sat back down. “Yeah?”

“I meant it,” Tristan said softly and Miles eyed him curiously. “I meant it when I said I love you. I’ve known I’ve been in love with you for a long time now and I should have said it a lot sooner. It’s just scary, you know?”

Miles smiled. “I know.” He leaned in to kiss Tristan softly.

“I— I shouldn’t have ran away from you, from us. It wasn’t fair to you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Tristan—”

“I made a mistake and I’m so sorry, Miles. I’m sorry for ever putting you through all this.”

Miles could see the tears in Tristan’s eyes and he pulled the other boy closer, hugging him. “Shh..” he whispered. “I love you.”

Tristan sniffled against him. “This past month has absolutely sucked without you.”

Miles huffed a laugh. “Tell me about it.” It’d been miserable without Tristan in his life, but now that he was back, everything was so much better.

“But, we’re together now. Right?” Tristan asked, eyes open and vulnerable, waiting to be rejected.

Miles kissed him reassuringly, nodding as he pulled back. “Always.”

Somehow Tristan had wiggled his way into Miles’ lap, and Miles hugged him close, cuddled him, breathed him in. He didn’t know what this meant for the two of them. There were still many unanswered questions regarding their relationship that they would have to figure out. Together.

But, right now, it was enough to just hold each other’s warm bodies on the couch, watch movies and order pizza for the night with Tristan’s favorite toppings. They loved each other and that was enough. It was all either of them needed.

 

Sometime the next morning, Miles woke up happily entangled in Tristan’s limbs, having overslept and late for work per usual.

They’d had a late night, cuddling on the couch and finally turning to the bedroom around midnight, making love again before rightfully passing out in each other’s arms. It finally felt right, the two of them together again and Miles was happy.

He smiled, shifting to bury his face in the crook of Tristan’s neck, pressing his lips against his collarbone.

Then, Miles shifted away, sitting up and letting his legs hang off the side of the bed. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, pressing the home button to bring the screen to life.

A text message from his brother was waiting for him. _Both of us called in sick today. The bosses deserve a day off. Enjoy yours with Tristan. ___

Miles smiled as he read the text, surprised that his brother had taken the liberty to free them from HCC for the day. He knew it probably had mostly to do with Hunter’s new shiner and split lip, but this felt genuine. For the first time, Miles thought he could really move past Hunter’s interference in his life and Tristan’s, that maybe they could be brothers, business partners and best friends again.

Miles heard the sheets ruffle behind him, followed by Tristan’s groggy morning voice. “Headed to work?”

Miles set his phone back down on the nightstand and looked back at Tristan. “Nah. Hunter gave me a sick day.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows, but didn’t comment, instead reaching over with his hand to touch the curve of Miles’ naked hip. “Then come back to bed.” Tristan’s mouth turned into a smirk, suggestive, as he looked at Miles with twinkling eyes.

Miles chucked, knowing that smirk. He’d seen that lazy smirk before and it always meant morning sex. So, Miles didn’t hesitate rolling back under the comforter, moving his body to hover over Tristan’s so he could kiss him.

 

“You mind if I step out for a bit? Go to Hunter’s?” Miles asked as he cleaned up their dishes from the late breakfast they’d shared in the kitchen.

Tristan shook his head as he finished up his coffee. “No, that’s fine. I’ll just head back to my place.”

Miles frowned because that wasn’t what he meant. “No, you can stay here if you want. I shouldn’t be long, not more than an hour. Maybe we can go out tonight,” Miles offered. A date sounded nice and the last thing he wanted was to be separated again.

“Okay,” Tristan nodded with a smile and Miles rounded the counter to kiss him, before heading to his bedroom, Tristan in tow, to shower together and change for the day.

 

Hunter still looked like crap if Miles was being honest as he opened the door, nose badly swollen and bruised, dried blood crusted underneath, eye darkened and lip cracked. The surprise was evident at seeing Miles at his door, but Hunter stepped to the side to let him in nonetheless.

“What are you doing here?” Hunter asked, not angry, just in wonder. “Thought you’d be spending the day with Tristan.”

Miles shrugged, sitting down on the couch and looking at the giant flat screen that was paused on some video game Hunter had been playing. “Wanted to see my little bro. What’s wrong with that?”

Hunter eyed him suspiciously and when Miles glanced at him, he shook his head. “No, nothing. Just— uh— a little weird because you’ve wanted nothing to do with me lately, you know?” Hunter was being honest, as he usually was and Miles nodded to himself in agreement. 

It was quiet for a moment, Hunter picking up the abandoned Xbox controller and resuming his game, before Miles spoke. 

“I guess I’m here to say thank you for everything last night.”

Hunter looked to him then, scowling lightly, confused. “You don’t have to thank me, Miles. Plus, you kind of already did last night.”

Miles rolled his eyes because of course his brother couldn’t just accept his thanks. “I know, but I just keep thinking what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.” Miles nearly shivered as he took a breath. “I love him, Hunter. I really do.”

Hunter nodded, looking back to the screen. “I’m happy for you guys. I’m glad the two of you can move past what happened, the rift I caused.”

“Look, what you did, going behind my back and lying to Tristan to break us up, that was really fucking messed up of you. And I didn’t think I would ever be able to get past it, ever to look at you the same.” Miles was looking at his hands in his lap, folding and unfolding them as he gathered his thoughts. “Last night, you risked the company for Tristan. If you had been arrested or charged, the news would have been all over it, CSIS would have been all over it and it would not have been good for the future of HCC. You had to have known that. You got lucky.”

Miles looked to his brother, registering his blank, unsurprising face as the truth settled in.

“Of course I did, Miles. I’m not stupid.” Hunter paused the game and tossed the controller to the side with a sigh. “You know, when you told me I sounded like dad, I didn’t want to believe it.” Miles froze at the mention of their father, remembering his low blow that day in the office. “I’m not dad. I never want to be anything like him. But, the scary thing was that after that day, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw that I was acting just like him, that I was becoming him.” Hunter’s voice had grown soft, teetering off towards the end, his own fear creeping through.

Miles knew what it felt like to be compared to that man, their father that had abused them growing up and never put the family first. Miles shook his head. “You’re nothing like him, Hunter. I was wrong.”

“You know this company’s my whole life, Miles. It’s the only constant I’ve had over the years and I don’t know where I’d be without it. But you know what’s more important than the company?” Hunter looked to his brother, eyes glassy. “You.”

Miles nodded, wiping his eyes to stop the tears threatening to fall, not able to speak quite yet. God, when did he become so emotional?

“And I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that includes Tristan, too,” Hunter said. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I’m always going to be here for you and the company, Hunter. Whatever you need, I’m here for you, buddy.” Miles reached out to place his hand on his little brother’s shoulder. “Us Hollingsworth brothers, we’re unstoppable, right?” Miles said with a small laugh.

Hunter cracked a smile. “Right.”

BANG BANG BANG

Miles jumped at the noise of someone banging on the door to Hunter’s apartment, only to relax when he heard Grace’s muffled voice coming from behind it. “Hurry up! My feet are killing me!” She complained and Miles and Hunter both laughed.

“Forgot to tell you Grace was coming over to game,” Hunter said before yelling over his shoulder, “Door’s open!”

Grace came in, dropping her bag and kicking off her high heels from work, grumbling something about being on her feet all day despite being an animator. She didn’t look up until she was in front of the couch, smiling as she laid eyes on the two of them. “Miles is here.” There was surprise in her tone before she looked to Hunter and laughed, taking in his beating. “Wow, you do look like shit.” Hunter flipped her off.

Miles chuckled, shaking his head as Grace plopped down between the two brothers, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders.

“Have we finally made up? Are you guys civil again?” she questioned, Miles knowing that all she wanted was the two of them happy again. 

Miles looked around Grace at his brother and flashed a genuine smile. “As civil as we’ll ever be.”

“I’ll take it,” Grace said, giving both of their shoulder’s a squeeze before letting go and reaching for the video game controller. “Who’s ass am I whooping in Realm of Doom?”

“Miles has to get back to Tristan,” Hunter simply stated, no venom in his voice whatsoever.

Miles thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. This was compromise. “I can play a game or two,” he said, grabbing the remote out of Grace’s hand, which earned him a smile from Hunter and a pinch on the arm from Grace.

It was the three of them, laughing, bickering and hanging out, just like old times.


	21. Home

Miles shivered as he shrugged out of his winter coat, still chilled from returning home much later than predicted from Hunter’s. He threw his coat on the hook and toed out of his boots, his socked feet sliding on the hardwood floor as he kicked the discarded shoes against the wall so they were out of the way.

Turning around, he found Tristan sitting on the couch, hoodie pulled up around his head and hiding his face as he scrolled through Miles’ iPad placed in his lap. He didn’t look up as Miles entered the room.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Miles said, running his hands up and down the long sleeves of his shirt to warm himself. Toronto was so damn cold in the winter and Miles longed for the heat of summer when he didn’t have to bundle up in layers.

“Didn’t know if I should stay,” Tristan said casually.

“Of course you should.” Miles looked at Tristan, furrowing his eyebrows, the other boy still not meeting his gaze. “Jesus, it’s cold. You could’ve turned up the heat.” He turned to head up the steps to the kitchen, reaching for the thermostat above the counter and slamming his thumb against the button to raise the temperature.

“Not my home,” Tristan mumbled, Miles barely making out the words. What was that supposed to mean?

Miles paused for a second before warily headed back into the living area, leaning over the back of the couch to peer at the iPad over Tristan’s shoulder. He placed his hands on Tristan’s shoulders, gently squeezing and kneading the muscles. “What are you looking at?”

Tristan’s hands froze and dropped from the iPad, so fast like he’d been caught red-handed. He finally turned his head to look at Miles from around the hood of his zip-up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t use your stuff without asking.”

Miles drew his eyebrows together and shook his head. “You know I don’t care.” They always shared each other’s things before and it was no different now. The two were practically living together prior to everything falling apart and using each other’s stuff was just inevitable. It was part of a relationship and Miles badly wanted to get back to that normalcy.

Miles looked back to the iPad, seeing nothing but apartment listings. That confused him even more. “Getting a new apartment?” Miles questioned jokingly, that small hint of hysterical worry slipping through his voice.

Tristan sighed and dropped his gaze to his lap, and whatever smile had worked it’s way onto Miles’ face was wiped clean. “I know with the restraining order, I shouldn’t be afraid.” His voice wavered slightly as he closed his eyes. “I just don’t feel safe living in that apartment when he knows where I am, when he can show up and finish what he started.” Tristan lifted his hand slowly to thumb at his neck, brushing his index against his throat. Miles swallowed.

It made sense for Tristan to not want to return to his apartment. Miles understood that and didn’t blame him. But, why would Tristan be looking for a new apartment when he was sitting in a perfectly good one right now?

Miles looked back to the apartment listings over Tristan’s shoulder, the first one reading, _One bedroom apartment. $600 a month. Ottawa, Ontario. _Miles froze.__

_Ottawa, Ontario._

“You’re leaving?” Miles asked lowly, fingers numb suddenly against Tristan’s shoulders, brushing against the cloth of his hoodie. Jesus, he’d only been gone a couple hours longer than expected and Tristan was making plans to move not just into a new apartment without him, but out of Toronto completely?

Tristan clicked the button on the side of the iPad, making the screen go black. “It’s not that far. We can make it work.” Tristan sounded confident, determined and Miles didn’t feel any of that.

“I thought you were staying here.” Here, in this apartment, with him.

Tristan looked back at him, eyes soft and searching. He reached over with his hand, finding Miles’ against his back. “Miles, come here.”

Miles walked around the couch, falling into the cushion beside Tristan, both turning to face each other. Tristan took his hand. 

“It’s just not realistic for me to be paying for that apartment while I’m staying here most nights. I need a home.” Tristan squeezed Miles’ hand, getting him to look at him as he tried to explain. “I know before I messed everything up I was supposed to move in here and honestly, Miles, I want to head in that direction. But, I don’t expect us to just pick up where we left off when I hurt you so bad. I broke you and I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Why Ottawa?”

“Toronto’s expensive. I was lucky to find that shitty apartment for so cheap,” Tristan spoke dully, almost like he was trying to convince himself of the reasons rather than Miles. “Plus, my brother’s there,” he added quietly.

Miles flicked his eyes down to their hands intertwined between them. He ran the pad of his thumb along Tristan’s before looking back up. He considered what Tristan was saying, but it just didn’t make sense to him. “Tristan, this is your home,” he said softly, definitely. “And it doesn’t feel like my home without you in it.”

Miles let go of Tristan’s hand to pick up the iPad and toss it to the side, not breaking his boyfriend’s gaze. Tristan didn’t respond, but Miles could see the understanding and love behind his eyes. He put a hand on his knee, pushing up from the couch to stand before Tristan could lean any closer and kiss him. “Get your coat. We’re going out.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows at Miles’ sudden eagerness to leave the apartment, but he didn’t argue. He stood up, following Miles to the door where they grabbed their coats and zipped them up. “Where are we going?” Tristan asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

 

Pulling into the gravel parking lot behind a familiar concrete building, Miles put the car in park, twisting his keys in the ignition to shut the engine off. He peaked at Tristan from the corner of his eye, watching the boy take in the building and realize where Miles had taken them.

“We’re going skating?” Tristan wondered with a sort of glow to his expression, eyes lighting up as he looked to Miles.

Miles gave a genuine smile at Tristan’s excitement before turning to open the door and step out of the car. “Yeah, we’re going skating.”

He lead the way to the building, finding the right key to unlock the door and moving quickly to unarm the alarm system mounted on the wall to the right. Tristan walked past him, straight ahead to the large plexiglass windows to stare out at the smooth and shiny ice, shimmering as Miles flicked on the lights. 

“It’s beautiful,” Tristan said, eyes not breaking from the rink as Miles came to stand next to him.

“It’s a hockey rink,” he contradicted with a laugh, glancing out at the clean ice covering the painted lines and goals set up on either end. He shifted his eyes to the HCC banner hung above the stadium seating along with each of the recreational teams that played there.

Tristan shook his head, lifting his hand to the glass, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile. “I have memories from here that make it beautiful.”

Miles bit his lip to hold back the grin because he was apart of those memories, the date they shared that felt like forever ago. He coughed to hide the flush to his cheeks. “I’ll get us skates.”

Miles headed across the room to hoist himself over the counter and search for the right sizes for the two of them amongst the shelves of skates. It was messy and disorganized from the open skate earlier in the day, so it took Miles a couple minutes to track down the right skates. Once he’d found them, he climbed back over and rejoined Tristan by the plexiglass, handing him a pair.

After lacing up their skates, the two headed onto the ice, Miles taking Tristan’s hand to make sure the other boy found his balance and didn’t go tumbling to the ground. They skated around the edge of the rink quietly, the only sound being their blades scraping against the ice.

“Ever play hockey?” Miles asked offhandedly, eyeing the storage room directly outside the sideline of the rink that he knew held the hockey equipment. His hand’s itched to hold a stick and shoot a puck. It’d been a while since he’d shot around with his brother, years maybe. 

He used to help out during the rec leagues back when the arena first opened, watch the little kids skate around and chase a puck. But, as the company had picked up and gotten more jobs, he’d become too busy to volunteer and he longed for that feeling in his chest at showing a child how to hold a hockey stick for the first time. He remembered his first time playing hockey, the wooden stick his father had placed in his hands with dirty tape wrapped around the blade, as he wobbled on roller blades in the driveway of the mansion, Hunter masked in front of a makeshift goal grinning ear to ear. It was one of the very few good memories of his childhood.

Tristan’s voice cut through his thoughts and Miles shook himself out of it. “Owen played.”

Miles let go of Tristan’s hand to skate towards the side, opening the latched door to step off the ice and walk the few feet to the storage room. He reached in his pocket, pulling out his keys and finding the correct one to open the door.

“Geez. Is there a key to a door you don’t have?” Tristan called over, still on the ice.

Miles walked into the storage room, easily finding what he needed, two sticks and a bucket of pucks. He headed back out and onto the ice, offering a shrug to Tristan. “Well, I did build the place.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows in surprise as he skated backwards slowly towards the center of the rink. “You built this?” He held out his arms, turning in a circle to gesture to the wide range of ice.

Miles laughed, skating over to Tristan and setting down the bucket of pucks. “My company did.”

“I thought HCC sponsored the rec teams?”

Miles held out one of the sticks for Tristan to take. “We do,” Miles nodded. “Because we built it. It was one of our first jobs.”

Miles knocked the bucket over intentionally, letting the pucks spill out and roll in a scatter across the ice. He pushed one to the right with his stick before taking off with the puck, skating down the rink till he was about ten feet from the goal, not slowing to shoot. He watched the puck sail directly into the top corner of the net, smiling unexpectedly as he scored.

“Wow, I didn’t realize my boyfriend played for the Maple Leafs!” Tristan called over and Miles turned around.

“Let’s see what you got, Milligan.”

Miles skated back towards the center of the rink as Tristan took off towards the goal, tripping up a little as he tried to manage keeping the puck on his stick when he skated. He was a lot closer when he took his shot, the puck sliding into the goal directly through the center.

Tristan twirled around, smiling, and Miles released an amused chuckle. “Well?” he prompted, as he skated back towards Miles.

“Nice shot,” Miles nodded. “I mean, that’s usually where the goalie stands,” he teasingly added as Tristan stopped in front of him.

Tristan huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“I’m joking.” Miles reached forward to fist the collar of Tristan’s jacket and pulled him forward to press a short kiss to his lips. Then, he was retrieving another puck from the pile and skating towards the goal on the opposite side of the rink.

The two shot around together, laughing when some of the pucks landed nowhere near the goal and others slamming into the back of the net. When the last of the pucks were tucked into the goals, both boys were out of breath, Tristan’s ankles wobbly on his skates.

“My feet are killing me!” Tristan exclaimed, smiling as he watched Miles skate over to him, dropping their sticks to the ice with a clamor.

Miles only grinned, slowing slightly as he collided with Tristan, wrapping his arms around the other boy to keep him from falling to the ice. He pushed Tristan until his back was against the plexiglass surrounding the rink and kissed him, slotting their lips together, pushing his wet tongue through into Tristan’s mouth. Miles pinned Tristan to the wall, supporting his weight to keep him standing upright, pushing a leg in between Tristan’s.

And when Miles pulled back, Tristan’s lips chased after him, reconnecting to kiss him again with a smile. Then, Tristan let his head fall back against the plexiglass with a soft bang, his eyes turning to goo as he stared at Miles.

Miles felt his face flush the way Tristan was looking at him, and he broke eye contact to look bashfully down at his leg wedged in between both of Tristan’s.

Tristan reached his hand to tilt Miles chin up softly, shifting to catch his eyes again. Miles looked at him quietly for a moment, locking his gaze with Tristan’s bright blue eyes. He didn’t feel lost. He felt found.

“I want you to move in with me.”

Tristan’s mouth opened, but he didn’t respond, yet. He cupped Miles’ face with both hands, tracing his thumbs softly against his cheeks, along the corners of his mouth.

“I don’t want you to move to Ottawa. I want to live with you. I want to wake up everyday next to you.” Miles worried his lip between his teeth and Tristan shifted his hand to thumb at his bottom lip to stop him from doing so, listening to him speak. “I know we’re just getting back together and we’re still working through things, but I think moving in together will be good for us, Tris. We’ll be happy living together. Don’t you want that?” There was that doubt in Miles’ voice, the doubt that maybe he was in deeper than Tristan. Maybe Tristan didn’t want the same things as Miles did.

“Of course I want that,” Tristan reassured him, leaning his head in to brush their noses together. “I want nothing more than to move in with you, Miles.” His voice was just above a whisper as he continued caressing Miles’ face. “I just don’t want to rush you after everything that has happened.” Tristan pulled back with a sigh, dropping his hands as he met Miles’ gaze. “I mean— I’m a mess.”

Miles lifted his hands to Tristan’s shoulders, sliding them to the back of his neck as he leaned forward. “You’re not a mess, Tristan. And so what if you are? Aren’t we all?” His fingers touched the hair at the nape of Tristan’s neck, the soft curls and Miles sighed lightly. “I love you, no matter what. We can be a mess together.” Miles’ lips cracked into a smile and he raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

Tristan looked at him for a moment, not being able to help mirroring his smile. “Okay,” he nodded.

Miles slid his hands around to cup Tristan’s face, cold hands against his warm cheeks. “Okay?” he questioned, smiling impossibly wider. “You’ll move in with me?”

“You’re sure about this?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything, Tris.”

Tristan nodded, excitement building up on his face, insecurities dissipating with Miles’ reassurance. “Okay, let’s move in together.”

“Yeah?” Miles laughed, pulling Tristan into a big hug, lifting him slightly off the ground to hug him tighter. Tristan was his home, would always be his home.

“Miles!” Tristan yelled in surprise, laughing, wrapping his arms around Miles’ neck and pressing his forehead against his. “Put me down.”

Miles set Tristan back on the ice, not letting go to keep him steady, and Tristan pulled him into a kiss, soft with open mouths and gasping breaths, swipes of tongue.

Tristan pulled back, blurting out a quick, “I love you,” before kissing Miles again, swallowing Miles’ gurgled, “Love you, too.” Bodies pressed up against each other, kisses growing more heated, they both knew that if they didn’t stop now, this would only end one way.

“Want me to blow you this time?” Tristan said in between wet kisses down Miles’ neck, hand wandering to the front of his pants.

Miles closed his eyes, flickering images of the last time they were here, Miles sucking Tristan off on the ice for the first time, replaying in his head. “Fuck,” Miles breathed, opening his eyes, because yes, god yes, he wanted Tristan’s mouth on him. But, thinking about the cold ice beneath Tristan’s knees and the warm bed awaiting them at home where they could do a whole lot more, Miles grabbed Tristan’s hand, stopping him from going any further down.

Tristan looked up at him, eyebrows raised questioningly and Miles smirked, disconnecting from Tristan abruptly to skate away. “Here? I don’t want my dick on the security cameras!” he called over his shoulder, grinning to himself as he skated to pick up the discarded bucket and begin gathering the pucks to return to the storage room.

“What? Security cameras? Miles!”

Miles turned, watching Tristan skate after him, looking frantically at the ceiling for any sign of cameras. Miles laughed.

Tristan looked at him, eyes wide and failing to hold back his laughter no matter how hard he tried to remain serious. “You’re kidding. Please, tell me you’re kidding, Miles! The whole hockey arena did not see you blow me on a security tape!”

Miles finished picking up the pucks, still laughing, throwing sly smirks Tristan’s way. Of course he was kidding. He knew for a fact there were no security cameras on the ice because of budget issues while building and the fact that it was only really necessary to have security by the doors.

Miles skated over to pick up the sticks before putting the equipment back in the storage room and re-locking the door. Tristan was waiting for him expectantly on the ice, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, doing his best to appear pissed off, but the little smile breaking across his face told Miles otherwise. 

Miles chuckled, skating to him and reaching out for his arms. “I’m joking, babe. You really think I’d let my clients see me giving my boyfriend head?” 

Tristan flashed him an unconvinced look and Miles let out another laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “We used to bone in your office during work hours!” Tristan reasoned, grinning as he nudged his boyfriend.

“We were quiet… or at least tried to be,” Miles contradicted, leaning closer to Tristan and breathing in his huff of laughter. “I promise you, there are no security cameras. No one knows what we do in here. What happens on the rink stays on the rink.”

“Good.” Tristan kissed him once, hard and breathtaking, pulling back with a warm smile.

It took Miles a moment to shake himself out of it, Tristan’s kiss having turned his mind to mush as usual. “Let’s get out of here,” he decided, grabbing Tristan’s hand, intertwining their fingers and pulling him off the ice.

 

The following week, Miles and Tristan fell back into routine together, spending most of their time outside of work together, getting their relationship back in order and up to speed with each other. It was almost as if nothing had happened between them, as if they had never spent time apart. But, their connection had grown a lot deeper; they were more in love than ever and way stronger than before the breakup. 

Tristan had spent every night with his boyfriend, planning on officially moving in with him as soon as possible. Miles had given him his key to the apartment back and Tristan was in the process of packing up his things and moving boxes over. Unlike before, he wanted to move in right away and be done with his old apartment, so boxes began piling up in Miles’ living room as more of Tristan’s stuff got moved over. They spent their evenings on the couch together, sifting through the boxes, unpacking and putting Tristan’s things in new places. This was their apartment now and Miles couldn’t be happier to have someone as great as Tristan to share it with.

Work was going good for Miles, things seeming to have calmed down as he was now caught up with what he had missed over his absence and all of the projects were running smoothly. The CSIS project especially was really coming together, and Miles couldn’t believe the progress as he visited the jobsite earlier in the week. It was going to be an amazing building, and Miles was honestly proud of his company and all of the hard work that was going into it. Despite all the trouble the CSIS project had caused him, it looked like it was going to pay off.

Back at the office, Miles was replying to client’s emails, his office door open with the comfortable background noise of his employees hard at work filtering through. He was on only his second cup of coffee for the day and in a pretty good mood, having been sleeping soundly ever since Tristan had returned to sleep next to him. He was happy, more than happy because everything was finally beginning to feel right in his life again.

“Are you actually encouraging our employees to converse with you? I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you willingly keep your office door open. I have to say I’m impressed,” Hunter teased as he slid into the chair in front of Miles’ desk.

Miles chuckled, looking up at his brother as he stopped typing on the keyboard in front of him. “Like you’re any better.” It was known around the company that the Hollingsworth brothers liked to keep their office doors shut for privacy and also to avoid the unrelenting questions from their workers. They didn’t have to keep up the big boss act if they were out of sight from the rest of the office while they worked.

“What’s up?” Miles asked.

“Running out of things to do around here. I’ve been playing Halo for the past hour in my office.”

Miles snorted. With things running so smoothly with the jobs and everyone doing what they’re supposed to do, busy work was running dry for the two of them in the office, not that Miles was complaining. It was a good feeling, knowing the company had everything under control and was headed in the right direction after their set back.

“You’re complaining? Hunter, you, more than anyone deserve a break.”

Hunter smiled. “I took my break last week.”

Miles narrowed his eyes at his brother, Hunter talking about the sick day he’d given the both of them after the incident with James. “You spent the day writing proposals for the executives. I know, because one of them had a follow up question for me and I knew they weren’t finished when I left the office the night before.” He gave his little brother a pointed look before adding, “Plus I wouldn’t really consider it a break when you had the shit beat out of you and were probably icing bruises all day.”

Hunter rolled his eyes and flipped his brother off. At least the injuries had mostly healed up; only a couple faded yellow bruises around Hunter’s pale skin remaining. Miles had to give it to him that Hunter was tougher than he thought, putting up a real fight against James. He’d never thought his little brother had it in him, but like Hunter had said, it was to protect family. Miles got quite a kick out of the looks Hunter got from their employees when he returned to work battered and bruised, gossip spreading like wild fire through the office about their younger boss. If only they knew he’d been in handcuffs as well and taken away in a police car.

“So, what are you doing tonight?” Hunter asked, changing the subject.

Miles shrugged. “Hockey games on. Going to watch Toronto destroy the Devils. It should be an interesting game.”

“How about dinner at your place? We can watch the game together. I’ll bring takeout or something.”

Miles raised his eyebrows, the offer taking him a little by surprise, but then again, this was his brother. They used to watch hockey together all the time. It was time for them to get back to normal with each other. “Yeah, sure. Can we watch it at your apartment, though?”

“Why?”

Miles looked at him like the reason was obvious. “Well, Tristan’s going to be home.”

“So? I’m sure he won’t care if we put the game on.”

“Yeah, but— I mean, there’s boxes all over the place since he’s in the process of moving in. It’ll just be easier at your place.”

“I don’t care about boxes, Miles,” Hunter said, knowing his brother was making up excuses. He sighed when Miles dropped his gaze and didn’t answer. “Look, I know you’re wary about me being around Tristan, but I just want to talk to him. You know, clear the air. I had the chance to apologize to you for what happened, but I never really had that with him. And since he’s going to be in your life for a while, I want to fix things,” he rambled on, Miles looking back up at him and offering a nod before Hunter lowered his voice. “I just don’t want you boxing me out of your life like you did with mom and dad.”

Miles pressed his lips into a tight line, knowing he’d shut his parents out of his life and how much that affected Hunter and Frankie’s relationship with them. He hated himself for hurting his siblings, their family, but he’d had good reason to not want anything to do with his father. 

“Shut the door,” Miles said and he waited for his brother to lean back and push the door so it shut with a click and prevented any employees from over hearing.

“You know I never meant to box mom out. She knows that,” Miles said and Hunter looked down. Despite never seeing his parents, barely keeping in touch and only showing up when he needed to as with holidays, his mother knew it wasn’t because of her, but solely the result of her god awful husband. She’d had her fair chances to leave their father and had chosen not to.

“Doesn’t change that you did.”

“Hunter, I’m not going to— This is different. You’re my brother, my best friend. I’m not boxing you out. You made a huge mistake that hurt me and the person I love, and I just want to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Tristan and I are in a really good place right now and I won’t let you ruin it again.”

“Miles, I’d never make the same mistake again. I get it now, okay? I know what I did was wrong. I know Tristan’s not going anywhere. I want him in your life. Just let me come over for dinner tonight, watch the game with you guys. Please,” Hunter pleaded. “I don’t want to feel like I’m banned from seeing Tristan. Hell, I helped you pick out that apartment, I should be allowed there any time I want.”

Miles groaned, leaning back in his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, Hunter. You can come over tonight, but no, that doesn’t mean you have an open invitation to start showing up whenever you want.”

Hunter beamed, sitting forward in his chair. “Got it. I’ll bring food.” Then, Hunter was standing up, swinging the door open and heading back to his own office before Miles had the time to process what he just agreed to.

Dinner with his boyfriend and his brother given everything that had happened was bound to not end well. Miles had a headache already just thinking about it.

 

_Just got home from work. Saw your car parked outside, where are you? ___

Miles looked down at the text from Tristan, setting the joint between his lips so he could type out a response. One word. _Roof. ___

It was only a couple minutes later when he heard the door push open and bang shut and Tristan crossed the rooftop to stand next to him. Miles tore his gaze from the skyline to turn towards Tristan, opening up his arm to pull the other boy against him. Tristan fell into his arm, stifling a shiver and resting his head comfortably on his shoulder. Miles tightened his arm convulsively, running his hand up and down Tristan’s arm to try and warm him.

“It’s freezing out,” Tristan said, snaking his arm around Miles’ torso and turning his head in to block his face from the brisk air.

Miles hummed, lifting the joint back up to his lips for another hit with his free hand and blowing out the smoke. He felt Tristan’s eyes on him as he lowered the joint, twirling it between his thumb and forefinger before offering it to Tristan. Tristan waved him off and Miles took another puff before he stubbed it out against the top of the glass barrier in front of them.

“Hunter’s coming over for dinner to watch the hockey game,” Miles said after a couple moments of silence, knowing Tristan was waiting for him to talk.

“Oh… You’ve decided to get high for that?”

Miles gave a dry laugh and nodded.

“Well, that will be fun, spending time with your brother,” Tristan offered, rubbing his hand slowly against Miles’ side.

“I doubt it,” Miles snorted, shaking his head. “He somehow talked me into agreeing to it.”

Tristan tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows, confused. “Its just hockey. I thought you guys were okay now?”

“We are.”

Tristan turned to face Miles, looking at him until Miles finally turned and met his gaze. “What’s wrong? Why are you all worked up about this?” Tristan reached up to brush Miles’ hair back, out of his face. “I’ll leave for the night, or just a couple hours if you want me to, so you guys can hang out.”

“No,” Miles shut his eyes, shaking his head. “He wants you to be there, wants it to be the three of us.”

“So, what’s wrong with that? You don’t want me there?” Tristan asked simply, continuing to trail his hand through Miles’ hair.

“No, of course I want you there,” Miles said, wrapping both of his arms around Tristan. “He just— he thinks I’m trying to keep you away from him, and maybe I am.”

Tristan’s eyes softened and he traced his cold fingers along Miles’ hairline, down his face to his jaw.

“It’s taken me so much to forgive him and I know he’s not going to try to break us up again or anything like that, but I’m just scared to let him near you. I’m scare of losing you,” Miles admitted.

“Hey,” Tristan said softly, his hands stilling against Miles’ skin. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re never going to lose me, okay? No matter what anybody says.” Miles nodded and Tristan leaned in to press a kiss to his dry lips. 

“I know your brother went behind your back and lied to me, but, Miles, as much as I love you, I made the horrible choice to break up with you. He didn’t do that, I did.”

“That’s unfair. You would have never done it if he didn’t manipulate you, get you to think it was better for me.”

Tristan sighed lightly. “He saved my life, he saved me from James. I know you want to keep us separate, but he’s your brother, Miles, and I think he’d do anything for you. You can’t shut him out of your life with me. He loves you and we need to give him another chance and just put the past behind us, move forward together.”

Miles looked at him, thinking, before finally breathing out, “Okay.” He leaned forward to touch foreheads with Tristan, tilting his head to kiss him. “You’re right.”

Tristan kissed him again softly, giving a small smile as he pulled back slowly. “Come on, let’s go inside before we freeze to death,” Tristan said, separating from him and taking his hand to head back downstairs.

 

It was a little after seven when Hunter showed up to the apartment, carrying takeout food into the kitchen to set down on the countertop. Miles didn’t get up from the couch since Tristan had let his brother in, nursing a beer as he listened to the pre-game show on the TV. He had changed out of his work clothes into his Maple Leafs’ jersey, hoping that would spare his team some luck in the hockey game. The smell of food caught his attention, not having realized how starving he was, probably a result of the weed still in his system.

“I hope you like Chinese. I wasn’t sure what you’d order so I just got a bunch of different things,” Hunter said from the kitchen.

“Yeah, it looks great. Thank you, Hunter,” Tristan said and Miles heard the refrigerator door open and shut, the clang of a bottle of beer, footsteps approaching.

“You hungry?” Tristan asked behind him, leaning over the couch, resting his chin on the top of Miles’ head and letting his arms dangle around him. Miles finally broke his eyes away from the TV and turned his head to peer at him, nodding.

“When isn’t Miles hungry?” Hunter said sarcastically as he came down the steps from the kitchen and into the living area, balancing cartons of takeout and his beer in his hands. He handed Miles a container of food with a plastic fork sticking out the top before he plopped down in the armchair beside the couch.

Miles began shoveling food into his mouth, feeling his brother’s stare on him as he did so, but didn’t care enough to stop eating. Tristan had left to the kitchen to get himself some food before joining Miles on the couch.

“You’re stoned?” Hunter guessed as he continued watching Miles eat, taking a bite of his own food every so often.

Miles set his fork in the container and swallowed the food in his mouth, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He looked at his brother and quirked his eyebrows in answer.

“Jesus, Miles,” Hunter huffed out, although he didn’t sound surprised and Tristan stayed silent.

Miles shrugged and turned back to his food and the television, where the game was starting. “What’d you expect?” he asked simply, like Hunter should have known he wasn’t keen on the three of them hanging out, yet.

Hunter ignored Miles, leaning forward to set his food down on the coffee table next to his beer. It was quiet for a moment before he started talking. “Tristan, I just want to apologize for everything I said and did, for convincing you to break up with him. You didn’t deserve that and neither did he.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Tristan said. “I get that you were just doing it for the company.”

Miles coughed and widened his eyes at his brother. “Yes, he does,” he said firmly.

“Miles—” Tristan placed a hand on his boyfriend’s knee.

“No, he’s right. I’m sorry for everything, I really am and it’s never going to happen again. I was thinking about the company when I should have been thinking about the two of you. You’re a part of the family now, Tristan, and I’m happy Miles found you.”

Miles placed his hand on top of Tristan’s, slotting their fingers together as Tristan offered a smile to his brother.

“I forgive you and I owe you a huge thank you, Hunter. You know, I’m lucky I have such a cool kinda brother-in-law, that’ll beat up people for me and save my life,” Tristan said, grinning as he looked between Miles and Hunter.

Hunter smiled, holding out his fist to bump knuckles with Tristan. “Anytime.”

Miles rolled his eyes, but deep down, he was glad to have Hunter looking out for Tristan now, taking care of him if need be.

“That guy comes anywhere near you again he won’t be walking by the time Miles and I are done with him. Fucking prick,” Hunter added, pointing at Tristan in all seriousness.

“Got that right,” Miles agreed, squeezing Tristan’s hand lightly.

“Are we all friends again?” Tristan asked, almost giddy, ready to put the past behind him and start over with Hunter.

“All friends,” Hunter confirmed.

Tristan looked to Miles with a raise of his eyebrows and Miles nodded, leaning in to kiss his lips softly.

“What! You’ve got to be kidding me! He was boarding him! That should be a penalty!” Hunter all of a sudden yelled at the television, standing up to throw his hands in the air.

Miles pulled away from Tristan to look at the game, joining his brother on his feet to yell as now the Maple Leafs were losing by a point and had a player in the penalty box. “These fucking refs suck!” Miles yelled.

Tristan watched the two brothers grow heated over the hockey game from the couch, laughing at their obscene reactions.

Miles turned around, raising his eyebrows at Tristan and not being able to stop the smile breaking across his face at seeing his boyfriend laughing. “You think this is funny?” Miles asked incredulously. “Our team is losing!”

Tristan nodded, continuing to laugh to the point his eyes were tearing up, and Miles all of sudden tackled him playfully on the couch, pushing him down to kiss the laughter away.

“Are you kidding me? We’re losing the game and you two are sucking face? Geez, get a room,” Hunter groaned from in front of the TV, picking up his beer to down it. But, Miles ignored him in favor of continuing to kiss Tristan fervently until the penalty clock ran out.

 

“This is the last box,” Tristan announced, dropping the heavy cardboard box onto the naked mattress set on the floor of his now-empty apartment. Miles was sprawled across the mattress, lying on his back as he waited for Tristan to finish up packing.

He propped himself up on his elbows to look at Tristan, eyes glinting. “That’s the last one?” he asked, disbelieving.

It was the weekend and they’d spent the majority of the afternoon and evening packing up Tristan’s stuff and shuttling it over to Miles’ apartment. Miles was ready for the moving process to be over, having regretted not putting up more of a fight when Tristan had refused he call a moving company to do the job.

“Mhm,” Tristan hummed, smiling as he looked down at his boyfriend.

“Oh, thank god!” Miles collapsed back onto the old mattress, holding his fists in the air in triumph. It felt like they’d been moving Tristan forever and he was thrilled to be done with it, ready for his boyfriend to officially move in with him and call their apartment his home.

Tristan chuckled, falling to his knees on the mattress and crawling to hover over Miles’ body. “We still have stuff to unpack when we get home,” Tristan reminded him and Miles groaned lightly with a smile.

He reached up to cross his arms around Tristan’s neck and pull the other boy down into a heated kiss. Tristan responded immediately, pushing his body down against his and opening up his mouth to connect their tongues. Miles opened his legs, letting Tristan settle between them as he threaded his hands through his hair and continued making out with him. Tristan’s hands wandered up and down his sides, slipping up the end of his shirt to feel his skin.

Miles’ phone ringing broke them both out of it, hands stilling and lips separating with exasperated sighs.

Tristan saw the battle in Miles’ eyes and the want to ignore it, so he sat up, straddling his boyfriend’s thighs and putting a little space between them. “See who it is,” he urged. “It could be Hunter or Frankie… or Grace.”

Miles sighed, shifting so he could reach into the front pocket of his jeans and pull out his cellphone. “They can wait,” he mumbled, glancing at the screen lighting up as the phone continued to ring. He froze when he saw the name across it. “It’s my mom.”

Tristan didn’t say anything as Miles looked up at him and the two locked eyes for a moment. Then, Miles answered the call and brought the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, honey! How are you?” his mother greeted him cheerfully and Tristan moved off of him to sit cross-legged on the bed next to him and wait patiently.

“Uh— I’m good. Is everything okay?” Miles asked hesitantly, unusual for his mother to call him so randomly.

“Yes. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Hunter tells me that Tristan’s moving in with you. That’s so wonderful, Miles!”

Miles released the breath he’d been holding and flicked his eyes to Tristan who was watching him quietly. “Yeah, we’re, uh, actually finishing moving his stuff over now.”

“Oh, you’re with him? I won’t keep you long then,” his mom said with a light laugh. “Hunter was telling me that the building for CSIS is going well. That’s great. I’m sure that must be great business for HCC, keeping my son’s busy.”

“Yeah, so far so good,” Miles told her. “Got a while to go, though. It should be finished up around the end of September.”

“Well, we miss you, honey. Your dad and I, you know we’d love to see you. And Tristan! I’d love to see Tristan again!”

Miles sighed into the phone, keeping his eyes glued to Tristan’s. “I know, mom,” Miles said sadly, saving her the spiel about how busy he was and that he didn’t have the time to visit. She knew it was all lies, that he couldn’t go to the mansion and face their father, that he wanted nothing to do with him and how that involuntarily included her. “Maybe soon.” He didn’t sound promising.

“Alright, well, I’ll let you go. I love you, Miles. Say hello to Tristan for me!”

“I will,” Miles said with a small smile. “Love you, too.”

“Everything okay?” Tristan asked once Miles had ended the call and re-pocketed his phone.

“Yeah, just checking in. She says hi.”

Tristan smiled at him and Miles turned his gaze to look around the room, taking in the empty studio that his boyfriend had lived in, that Miles had spent some time in earlier on in their relationship. “Should we christen the place one last time?” Miles asked suggestively as he returned his eyes to Tristan’s with a smirk.

Tristan laughed, shaking his head and reaching forward to press his hand against Miles’ on the mattress. 

“No, let’s go home.”


	22. The Script

_Two months later… ___

 

Miles bounced on the balls of his feet as he rode the elevator down to the lobby of his apartment building, waiting for the doors to open so he could head out. He was grinning, in a particularly good mood today, and earning himself an odd look from the older women that shared the elevator with him. Miles widened his smile at her before adverting his eyes back to the metal elevator doors in front of him.

When the elevator dinged, indicating they’d reached the first floor, and the doors opened, Miles followed the women out.

“Good day, Mr. Hollingsworth. Any big plans for this Saturday?” a deep, but friendly voice asked and Miles turned to look at the security guard of the building, as he continued making his way towards the doors leading outside.

“Spending it with Tristan,” Miles responded and the security guard nodded, like he already assumed. “Such a nice day out. Have a good one, Frank.” Miles waved before opening the doors and walking out.

Directly in front of the building, idling on the side of the curb was a shiny white Mercedes Benz. Miles’ face lit up even more, pausing for a second to stare at the new car before heading over to it and pulling on the handle of the passenger door.

Miles let out a low whistle as he climbed into the seat and pulled the door shut behind him. “Hot wheels,” he commented, quirking an eyebrow as he turned to face the boy in the drivers seat.

Tristan laughed, smoothing his hands across the black leather of the steering wheel. “Birthday present from my _amazing boyfriend _,” he said.__

“Wow… You must have quite the boyfriend,” Miles played along.

“Yeah, he’s something alright.”

Miles laughed and Tristan leaned over to kiss him.

“Where we headed?” Tristan asked as he pulled back from the kiss, shifting the car into drive.

“Make a left at the light.” Miles nodded his head in gesture to the stoplight a couple blocks up before lifting his feet and propping them on the dashboard.

Tristan raised his eyebrows as he pulled onto the road and leaned over to knock Miles’ legs down. “Feet off,” he chastised and added, “You’re not telling me where we are going?”

Miles smirked and turned his head to look out the window without answering, fishing his sunglasses out of his jacket pocket to slip on.

He directed Tristan downtown, traffic a little heavy for a Saturday so the drive took longer than expected, but they were in no rush. Miles figured it was a result of this being the first nice day since autumn, temperature pretty mild, a little chilly, but at least the sun was out. 

“Pull onto the gravel to the right up here,” Miles instructed, pointing his finger to the small patch of rocks just off the road. Tristan did so and put the car into park.

“Where are we?” he wondered, looking at the fenced off construction site with HCC’s logo plastered to the front.

Miles smiled and opened the car door to get out. “Come on.”

Approaching the chain-linked fence, Miles fished out his keys, finding the right one to unlock the gate and open it. Pulling the fence back, Miles tilted his head, gesturing for Tristan to follow him through.

Behind the fence was the steel structure of a ten-story building; half of it already covered with bricks, the other half wide open to the outside. It was clearly still in construction, vents and pipes exposed, walls missing. But, it was definitely the start of something that would surely be magnificent one day.

Miles watched Tristan’s eyes scan up and down the building in wonder. “Welcome to the newest CSIS office building,” Miles supplied.

Tristan took in the construction site for another moment before looking to Miles, smirking and tilting his head. “Are we allowed to be here?” he questioned.

Miles laughed, walking the short distance to the side of the building where an HCC truck was parked. The gravel crunched beneath Tristan’s feet as he followed behind him.

“I’m allowed here at any time since I’m overseeing the construction,” Miles said as he opened the back of the truck and pulled out two construction helmets. He held one out for Tristan to take. “Safety first.”

Tristan eyed the helmet reluctantly before taking it from Miles and putting it on his head, most definitely messing up his perfectly styled hair. “And me?”

Miles put his own hard hat on before slamming the truck door shut. He reached in his pocket for a small ID card with his picture on it that he clipped to the front of his shirt. “You’re cleared since you’re with me.”

The construction site was deserted, it being Saturday and all, and Miles lead the way into the half-constructed building. The tall ceilings were mostly in place, although not plastered yet, creating an echo sound to their feet walking on the cement floor. 

He let Tristan look around for a moment before heading through an entranceway that led to flights of grated stairs. Without a word, Miles started up the stairs, feeling Tristan right on his heels. Since most of the outer walls on this side of the building weren’t in place, they were encaged by steel beams, creating an open environment for them to look outside as they continued up the stairs.

It was about six flights before Miles cut back through the entranceway and turned the corner to look out the edge of the building. From this height, you could see past the smaller buildings surrounding the jobsite, down the road for a little view of the city. It was nice, one of the many reasons Miles enjoyed overseeing this particular construction site. 

Tristan slid his arm under Miles’ jacket and around his back, looking out past the hills of gravel and bulldozers, smiling to himself. “Pretty awesome that you built this.”

Miles huffed a laugh, tilting his head to clunk his hard hat against Tristan’s and place his arm lightly around his shoulders. “I can promise you I wasn’t the one out here working the power lift and laying steel beams.”

“Hm, Hunter then?” Tristan teased.

Miles snorted. “The only machine he knows how to operate is a computer.”

“You’re forgetting the PlayStation.”

Miles chucked, squeezing Tristan’s far shoulder and getting the other to turn and face him.

“You might not be the one holding the hammer, but this would not be possible without you,” Tristan told him. “I’m proud of you, Miles. I know it hasn’t been easy, but look around and see what you’ve done. This is huge for your company.”

Miles reached his hands up to cup Tristan’s face, thumbs brushing lightly against his chin and jawline. If it weren’t for the hard hats getting in the way, Miles would’ve kissed him.

“You remember that time when we were driving out to Mississauga and you were having trouble with the script for your play?”

Tristan pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows lightly, rubbing his hands back and forth along Miles’ back underneath his jacket. “Yeah?”

“Remember what I told you?”

Tristan nodded. “Revise the script.”

“I’ve been thinking that maybe that advice wasn’t just for the theater.”

Tristan squinted his eyes and cocked his head as he listened to his boyfriend. “Huh?”

Miles licked his bottom lip, dropping his eyes. “Yeah, I mean that, my life was like a script, right? I woke up, got a cup of coffee, went to work everyday for eight plus hours before going home, just to repeat the process the next day.” Miles looked back up at Tristan’s bright blue eyes and smiled softly. “And then, I met you.”

“You met me and everything changed,” Tristan said quietly.

“You weren’t apart of my original script. I never thought I’d meet someone and fall in love and my whole world would change so quickly. Tristan, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. But, the company, HCC, is the second best. And I thought for awhile that I couldn’t have both, that I would have to choose.” Miles leaned in, touching their helmets together. “I would choose you in a heartbeat. But, then I realized I didn’t have to. That my script wasn’t permanent.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows and widened his smile. “You just had to revise it?” he guessed.

Miles laughed lightly and nodded. “I had to change the way I live my life so that I could balance you and the company, and we can’t forget about Hunter. My priorities shifted and I had to adjust my script, but now, everything’s fallen into place. Everything’s worked out.”

“And you’re happy?”

The question took Miles aback, almost stupid for Tristan to even have to ask. “Of course I’m happy. I have the best boyfriend a man could ask for. Aren’t you happy?”

Tristan pulled Miles in closer and mirrored his lopsided smile. “I couldn’t be happier.”

Miles reached up to take off his safety hat so he could tilt his head and lean in to kiss Tristan, fitting his top lip between Tristan’s cracked ones. Tristan tightened his arms around Miles’ torso and he kissed him again, soft and lingering.

“Do you ever wonder what would’ve happened if you weren’t running late that day? If you’d gotten to the coffee shop just ten minutes earlier and we never ran into each other?” Tristan wondered.

The smile slowly faded from Miles’ face as he thought about that, because it wasn’t something he liked to think about. “I would have never known what it felt like to be alive.” He watched Tristan drop his gaze and he waited a moment before asking, “What do you think?”

“I think… I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d probably be six feet under.”

Miles furrowed his eyebrows and tilted Tristan’s head back up so that the other boy would look at him again. “Don’t say shit like that,” he stressed.

“I just mean, he would’ve killed me. If I hadn’t ran into you again, if we’d never started dating, I probably would have gone back to him in Ottawa. And he would have killed me.”

Miles ran his fingers lightly against Tristan’s cheeks, softening his expression. “Hey, you’re here now, with me. That’s all that matters.”

Tristan released a small breath and nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Miles kissed him again before pulling him into a tight hug, burying his hands in the fabric of Tristan’s jacket clinging to his shoulders.

Here they were on the sixth story of an exposed building, no walls to hide them from the world, hugging each other like their life depended on it. They probably appeared so small compared to the massive structure of steal beams, but they were stronger than ever. Nothing could break them down and nothing could come in their way because they loved each other. They could make it through anything together and the past seventh months proved that.

“Hey!” a voice in the distance called, pulling both Tristan and Miles out of their hug. “Excuse me! This is private property, do you have clearance to be here?”

Miles laughed, looking down at the small person on the ground in front of the building, cupping his hands in front of his mouth as he shouted. It was Hunter. Miles flipped him off before looking back to Tristan.

“Jesus, he finds us everywhere,” Miles said, shaking his head and Tristan chuckled. “Let’s go.”

Taking Tristan’s hand, they both made their way back down the steps and out the entranceway to what was the front of the building, where Hunter was waiting.

“Are you stalking us?” Miles teased as he took Tristan’s hardhat from him and returned them to the truck, Tristan smoothing a hand through his dark locks to fix his hair.

“Ha-ha. No, I’m dropping off tile swatches for Danny,” Hunter stated, holding up the large book of tiles in his hands. “Showing Tristan the building?”

“Yup. Wanted him to see it before we finished putting up the walls next week.”

“You’ll have to bring him back when it’s finished. It probably looks like a dump right now.” Hunter looked up at the building that was half completed, sighing to himself.

“It looks great. You guys are doing such a good job,” Tristan said as Miles returned back to his side from the truck.

“Yeah, give it another five or six months, then you’ll really be impressed.”

“Miles says you operate the Bobcat over there,” Tristan joked, pointing to the yellow bulldozer by the piles of gravel and sand.

“Oh, did he?” Hunter laughed and Miles followed suit. “Yeah, he wishes he was cool enough to drive the machines like me.”

“Hunter, I give you two seconds behind the controls before you crash it into the nearest tree,” Miles shot back, jokingly.

They all laughed together for a moment before Hunter turned serious. “Uh— so, have you talked to mom? She wants you to come for dinner next weekend.”

Miles sighed and started walking past Hunter back towards Tristan’s car. “Don’t ask me questions you already know the answer to.”

“Miles, come on. It’s one dinner. They want to see you. Seriously, when’s the last time you were at the mansion? Christmas?” Hunter followed Miles to Tristan’s Mercedes, Tristan trailing behind awkwardly.

Miles opened the passenger side door, hovering outside as he debated whether or not to get in. “I can’t, Hunter. I’m sorry.”

“Frankie and I will be there. Mom even said you could bring Tristan.”

Miles shook his head. “I have nothing to say to them.”

“Jesus, why are you so stubborn?” Hunter grumbled, turning to look to Tristan. “Tristan, help me out here.”

Miles sighed. “Leave him out of it.”

“Sorry, Hunter. No can do.” Tristan shrugged, getting into the drivers side and starting the engine.

“Please, Miles. I just want it to be the whole family.”

“I’ll think about it, okay?” Miles gave in, more so to silence his brothers pleas than to actually consider it.

“Okay,” Hunter said relieved. “I’ll see you on Monday.” He waved to Tristan through the dashboard window before heading back onto the jobsite.

“Bye Hunter.” Miles got in the car and shut the door, reaching around to put on his seatbelt.

“Are you actually going to think about it?” Tristan wondered as he pulled off the gravel and got back onto the road, heading home. He would never pressure Miles into seeing his parents and that was something Miles greatly appreciated, considering how abusive his childhood was. He was glad Tristan understood.

Miles looked to him and offered a small smile. “No.”

 

Sunday morning, as usual, the two spent rolling around in bed, cuddling, kissing, drifting in and out of sleep in each other’s arms. It was a lazy day for the both of them, quiet and warm with no complaints whatsoever.

That is until around noon when someone knocked on the front door to their apartment and Miles and Tristan both pulled apart to look at each other quizzically. They weren’t expecting anyone, especially not on this day reserved for just the two of them.

“I swear to God if it’s Hunter,” Miles grumbled under his breath as he reluctantly rolled out of bed and sifted around the room for any pair of sweatpants he could find. Slipping them on and not bothering with a shirt, Miles reached above his head to stretch his muscles as he headed out of the room, down the hall to answer the door.

Looking through the peephole out of habit, he froze dead with his hand on the doorknob, never expecting who was behind the door. His father out of all people had shown up to his apartment at noon on a Sunday. Miles wondered how he’d even found his apartment building, how he’d gotten up to his floor without a call from security first. He’d stopped breathing without realizing, fingers numb against the cool metal of the doorknob, as his mind began to spiral out of control with thoughts about his dad. With his father right behind the door and Tristan just down the hall naked in his bed, Miles inevitably feared for the worst.

He wasn’t a coward. Taking a deep breath and snapping out of it, Miles turned the handle and opened the door with a sharp tug, meeting his father’s stony gaze with his own guarded one. “What are you doing here?” he barked out.

Mr. Hollingsworth looked at his son, glancing quickly at his shirtless torso and bed head before returning to Miles’ hard stare. “Hello, Miles.” Miles didn’t respond so his father asked further, “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

It was an old trick, his father was manipulating him into doing what he wanted, and somehow after all these years it still worked on Miles, because he couldn’t say no. Stepping aside, Miles allowed his father to step inside his apartment, closing the door apprehensively behind him.

Mr. Hollingsworth glanced around the apartment, walking further inside as Miles hovered by the door. “Playing house with your boyfriend, I see?” he commented and again earning no answer from his son. “It’s a decent place to live, I suppose.”

Miles opened his mouth, ready to question his father’s real intentions for showing up unannounced at his apartment when they hadn’t spoken for months, barely spoken in years. But, he froze again when he heard the familiar pad of footsteps coming towards the kitchen, and Tristan’s groggy voice asking, “Miles, who was at the door?”

Miles’ heart began to pound in his chest and not in a good way. He quickly recovered, calling out, “It’s no one. Go back to the bedroom, I’ll be there in a sec.” But, it was too late. There Tristan was in the opening, looking at his father, his father turning his head to look back.

Miles couldn’t help feeling relieved that Tristan had at least put on sweats and a tee and wasn’t standing there half-naked like he was.

“Um, hi,” Tristan said, flicking his eyes to Miles’ and Miles tried to plead with him through his expression to go back into the bedroom.

“Brian, was it?” his father asked and Miles turned quickly to look incredulously at his dad. It’d been so long since he heard his ex’s name, way before Tristan, someone his dad had never even met. Miles wasn’t buying the innocent act his father put up. He knew his name was Tristan and he was just trying to screw with Miles as always.

“No, it’s Tristan,” Miles chewed out, burning holes into his father’s skull with the look he shot at him.

“Oh, that’s right,” Mr. Hollingsworth mused. “Well, it’s nice to see you again, Tristan.”

Miles glanced at Tristan, recognizing the flash of hurt on his face before he quickly replaced it with a warm smile. Miles could murder his father with the rage that was stifling through his body. Like hell if he was going to let his dad get to his boyfriend like he’d gotten to him all these years.

“Nice to see you again, too.”

“I think you should go,” Miles said sternly as he looked back at his dad, raising his eyebrows pointedly as his father threw him a confused look.

“Now, Miles, I came to talk to you about dinner on Saturday. You’ve got your mother quite upset ignoring her calls.” Miles rolled his eyes as his dad continued, “It’s important that you visit your mother and the twins want the whole family together for dinner. Son, I don’t ask you for a lot—“

Miles scoffed, cutting his father off. “You don’t have the right to ask me for shit.”

“Miles, let’s not do this in front of your boyfriend,” he talked down to him before looking to Tristan. “Of course, Tristan, you are more then welcome to join us as my wife has stressed to Miles on more than one occasion.”

“Enough. Get out.” Miles had lost his patience, his body shaking with anger. He hated that his father could do this to him, still pull this kind of reaction out of him. It was embarrassing.

“Miles—”

“No. You don’t get to show up here and fuck with my head!”

“I’m your father.”

Miles laughed, he actually laughed in his father’s face. Like that word had any significance to him. “You’re a pathetic excuse for one, that’s for sure.” Miles headed towards the door, opening it and gesturing with his hand for his father to leave. “See you around, Dad,” he slewed thick with sarcasm. 

Mr. Hollingsworth sighed and walked towards the door, pausing in the threshold to look at his son. “Your mother misses you.”

Miles dropped his gaze to look at his feet and his dad turned to glance back at Tristan. “It was good to see you again, Tristan. Good luck with this one,” he said, looking to Miles with one more grimace before exiting the apartment.

Miles never shut the apartment door so fast behind someone, locking it and taking a much-needed deep breath, cursing at himself when he trembled. Turning around, putting his back against the door and looking at his boyfriend, Miles breathed out, “I’m so sorry.”

Tristan was down the steps and in front of him in a second, shaking his head and cupping his face in his hands. “Don’t apologize. Are you okay?”

Miles looked into Tristan’s open eyes and sighed. “I’m fine.”

“It’s okay if you’re not.”

“I’m fine. He just…”

“Riles you up?” Tristan guessed.

“Yeah.” Miles leaned forward to wrap his arms loosely around Tristan’s waist. “I’m sorry.”

“He’s an asshole, Miles.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t want him in my life- our lives. He manipulates me, abuses me. I can’t have that,” Miles’ voice filtered off. “I worked so hard to get away from that.”

“I know. Which is why, I will never let him hurt you,” Tristan promised, that same promise that they both would take care of each other. “Listen to me. You are a thousand times the man he’ll ever be.” Leaning in, he brushed his lips softly against Miles’.

Miles nodded, releasing a small sigh, relieved and falling against Tristan to hug him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Tristan ran his hand along Miles’ bare back to soothe him.

“What about my mom?” Miles questioned aloud after awhile of hugging Tristan in silence.

Tristan pulled his head back to meet Miles’ eyes and he brought his hand around to brush through his brunette hair. “Maybe there’s a way for you to spend time with her without seeing him.”

 

It was a couple days later that Miles had arranged to have lunch with his mother and the twins. His mom had been thrilled to hear from him and even encouraged him over the phone to invite both Tristan and Grace. It was the perfect way for him to supplement skipping the family dinner at the mansion where his father would be present, to still being able to see his mom and siblings. Although Hunter and Frankie wanted them to be one big happy family, they knew it would never really be possible. They understood the choices Miles had to make in order for him to live a healthy life and they supported him for it. And that was all Miles could really ask for.

That morning he sat in bed, leaning against the headboard, comforter pulled over his lap and looking down at his iPad in hand, scrolling through emails before he headed into the office. He’d woken up to an empty bed, Tristan already out on his morning run. Miles opened an email from CSIS that highlighted the plans for the next two weeks and requested paperwork to be scanned over since they needed copies.

He was only checking his email for about twenty minutes when he heard a key turn in the lock and the front door open, Tristan returning from his jog. Miles smiled, no longer reading the CSIS email as he waited for his boyfriend to come in.

It was another minute as Miles registered the fridge opening and closing, before Tristan entered the bedroom, green v-neck clinging to his chest with sweat marks down the middle, forehead glimmering, water bottle in hand and headphones still stuck in his ears.

Tristan grinned when he saw Miles looking at him, pulling his headphones from his ears and letting them hang from the neck of his shirt, still catching his breath when he said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

Tristan rounded the bed to Miles’ side, leaning down to give him a kiss. “Work already?” Tristan groaned as he glanced at the iPad in Miles’ lap, smile still present on his face. God, Miles always wondered how he could be such a morning person, have so much energy to run everyday.

“Just checking an email from CSIS. You know how Hunter gets if I don’t know what’s the latest the minute I step into the office,” Miles joked. “How was your run?”

“Good. You know, one of these days I’m going to get you to come with me.” Tristan crossed the room towards the dresser, setting his water bottle and phone with headphones down. He turned to face Miles as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“We’ll see.”

“What? Scared you can’t keep up?” Tristan lifted his eyebrows in challenge as he toyed with the waistband of his gym shorts.

Miles chuckled. “Please, I could beat you in a race any day.”

Tristan laughed as he pushed his shorts to his ankles and stepped out of them. “Yeah, sure,” he said disbelieving, before adding, “Are you joining me in the shower?”

Miles smirked, pushing his iPad to the side and getting out of bed to follow Tristan into the bathroom.

 

Walking into the office an hour later, Miles found his desk and got to work, sorting through the paperwork he needed scanned over to CSIS. It was a busy morning, but by the time lunch rolled around and Tristan swung by, his desk had mostly cleared of paperwork, handed over to some intern to do the scanning.

“Knock, knock,” Tristan said as he stood in the doorway to his office, fist raised against the open wooden door.

Miles looked up from his computer, smiling as he laid eyes on his boyfriend. “Hm, I guess Amanda finally learned she doesn’t need to ring me every time you come by the office,” Miles mused, given his secretary hadn’t called to ask if he would see him. 

“Yeah, haven’t you heard? I’m finally a VIP around here. Getting my own office and all,” Tristan teased as he slid into one of the chairs in front of Miles’ desk.

“Oh, really? Who’s setting you up with that?” Miles asked as he glanced back to his computer to close out of the excel sheet he had open on his desktop.

“Hunter, of course.”

Miles laughed. “I’ll be ready in a second, let me just finish something up quick.”

Tristan hummed and leaned back in the chair, looking around Miles’ office to occupy himself. His eyes stopped on a new addition to Miles’ desk, a picture frame facing towards Miles, and Tristan quietly picked it up to flip it around so he could look at it.

Miles closed out his last tab and pushed back from his desk, standing up and looking to Tristan who was now staring at the picture of the two of them, just a simple photo they’d taken together a couple weeks prior. Miles smiled, watching his boyfriend take it in before he looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

“Ready?” Miles asked and Tristan returned the picture frame to his desk and stood up.

“Ready.”

Right when they were heading out of Miles’ office, Hunter emerged from his, joining them as they walked past the executive offices and cubicles, and through the lobby.

“We’ll be back,” Hunter told Amanda as they passed the front desk, winking at her and Miles chuckled, shaking his head. 

Outside, they walked next door to the parking garage, hopping into Tristan’s car, Hunter in the backseat. It was a short drive to the little Italian restaurant they were meeting their mom at for lunch, Frankie and Grace also planning to join them there.

“I’m coaching one of the rec league practices over at the rink tonight,” Hunter shared as they pulled up to a stoplight.

“You’re what?” Miles wondered if he’d heard him correctly.

Hunter sighed. “I don’t know, the coach is sick or something and they couldn’t find anyone to fill in. Not even any of the player’s fathers. So, they called me as a last resort. If I hadn’t given in, they were calling you next.”

“How old?” Miles asked. 

“LTP.”

Miles burst into laughter, throwing his head back against the headrest of the seat and turning to look at his brother.

“LTP?” Tristan repeated, glancing over at his cackling boyfriend.

“Learn to play,” Miles supplied. “Means he’s stuck with a bunch of five year olds.”

“Ages five through seven,” Hunter grumbled. “Which is why, I was hoping you two could come by and help me out. It’s going to be a disaster anyway, so it’s not like I’ll be running drills or anything.”

“How do you get yourself into these messes?” Miles asked, shaking his head as his laughter died down.

“What do you mean? We sponsor the leagues, Miles. What am I supposed to say? No, we won’t coach when they’re desperate for help?”

“That’s what I would’ve said,” Miles quipped. 

“Of course we’ll come help you,” Tristan cut in, glancing at Hunter in the rearview mirror and hitting his turn signal.

Miles quickly looked to Tristan, mock betrayal flashing across his expression. “What?” There was no way he wanted to spend his night looking after a bunch of kids tripping over skates and sticks.

Tristan smiled. “Miles, it’s not like we got anything better to do.”

“I can think of something,” Miles said, intending the sexual implications that had both Hunter and Tristan rolling their eyes. However, Tristan was smirking a little. 

“Come on, Miles. We’ve broken into the rink enough times, the least we can do is volunteer a little. It’ll be fun,” Tristan decided as he pulled up to a parking spot on the side of the street in front of the restaurant and parallel parked into it.

“It’s not breaking in when you have a key,” Miles drawled, looking out the windshield, knowing he’d lost his battle.

“Oh yeah, Grace told me about the two of you fucking at the rink. You guys are gross,” Hunter reacted from the backseat, voice thick with disgust, opening the door to get out by the curb.

Miles undid his seatbelt and scrambled for the door to have at his brother. “We did not fuck at the ice rink. Grace is such a liar.”

Tristan rounded the car from the other side and came to slip his hand into Miles’ as he locked the car, far used to the brother’s constant banter with each other by now.

The couple walking hand in hand into the restaurant, Hunter trailing behind them as Miles continued bickering, they found their mom already seated at a table for six. She jumped up when she saw them approaching.

“Hello!” Mrs. Hollingsworth greeted, pulling her eldest son into a hug as he let go of Tristan’s hand.

“Hi, mom.”

“Miles, honey, you look so good!” Pulling back to look him over, she out of habit straightened the collar of his shirt. “Is this a new tie?”

Miles chuckled. “No, I don’t think so.”

Mrs. Hollingsworth turned her attention to Tristan standing beside Miles, lighting up and stepping forward to hug him, also. “Tristan, how are you? It’s so good to see you again!”

“It’s good to see you, too. How is everything?” Tristan greeted, hugging Mrs. Hollingsworth briefly before complimenting her blouse.

Mrs. Hollingsworth moved on to envelop her youngest son in a hug and Miles caught Tristan’s gaze and with a smile and a flick of his head, gestured for him to sit at the table next to him.

It was only a moment later that Frankie arrived, hair freshly curled and bouncing against her shoulders, dressed for spring. She made her rounds, hugging and greeting her mother and Hunter, thumping Miles on the back of his head before giving him a hug, and then throwing her arms around Tristan and nearly falling into his lap by the table. Miles laughed, knowing damn well he was her favorite.

“Tristan, I’ve missed you! Miles hogs you all the time. Promise me, we’ll go shopping soon,” Frankie said, reaching over to place her hand under Tristan’s chin. “Promise me.”

“Easy,” Miles chided, pulling on the sleeve of Frankie’s floral dress.

Tristan laughed. “Of course, Frankie. A full-fledged shopping spree next week.”

Frankie pulled her sleeve away from Miles, standing up and letting go of her hug on Tristan. “No Miles,” she added as she headed to her seat on the opposite side of the table.

Tristan looked past her to meet Miles’ eyes with a warm smile. “No Miles,” he agreed.

Miles tilted his head and pouted, feigning like his feelings were hurt, when in reality he could care less about shopping.

They ordered drinks, chatter coming easy amongst the table as they talked about all things, mostly catching each other up on their lives since it’d been a while since they saw their mother. Mrs. Hollingsworth wanted to know all about Tristan and Miles living together, their jobs, plans for the future. Stuff Miles didn’t even have answers to himself.

Grace showed up about ten minutes later, saying hello to everyone, patting Tristan’s shoulder as she walked past to sit in the empty chair on the other side of Miles.

Miles immediately turned to face her, while his mother kept his boyfriend’s attention. “You told Hunter that Tristan and I fucked at the ice rink?” he accused, only loud enough for both Grace and Hunter, who was sitting directly across from her, to hear.

“So, it is true,” Hunter laughed.

“It’s not true,” Miles corrected him as Grace smiled and shook her head.

“I didn’t tell your brother anything. He comes up with his own crazy ideas on his own. Anyways, why would I care where you and Tristan fuck?” Grace said, shrugging nonchalantly as she opened her menu and added, “Did you guys order, yet? I’m starving.”

Miles smiled and reached his arm around her shoulders, looping it around her neck to pull her into an awkward side hug. “Knew you always had my back.”

Grace rolled her eyes and pushed his arm away so she could sit back upright in her chair. “Yeah, dumbass. That’s what friends are for.”

Lunch was comfortable. It was nice having all the people Miles loved together in one room, where Miles could spend time with each of them. He’d feared it would be awkward, but that was an unwarranted worry because it was never the case. They talked amongst each other, conversations skipping around the table, filling the silence with voices and laughter and happiness. 

Sitting back in his chair, Miles took in the scene, watching and listening to the giggles spilling out of Frankie’s lips at a joke Tristan had just told, his mother, eyes bright and smile wide as she praised Tristan on his wit, Hunter and Grace discussing some latest release of a new video game and how they’d already pre-ordered copies. This was his family and suddenly that word had a lot more meaning to him, meaning that it’d never developed before. In the past, family had always been something Miles wanted an escape from, but not anymore. 

Family was forever. _This _was forever. And Miles wouldn’t have it any other way.__

 

The scraping sound of skates gliding through ice filled the brightly lit hockey arena, along with the crack of sticks against pucks, pads, other blades, ice and even players. 

“Well, Hunter was right. This is a disaster,” Miles humored where he stood on skates next to Tristan, watching the sight of about twenty or so kids, geared up and wobbling around the ice, chasing a puck while trying to stay on two feet. Most were unsuccessful.

“Ah,” Tristan cringed, “There goes another one,” as they witnessed another child tumble to the ice, stick sliding out of his grip as he tried to break his fall. He wasn’t the first to go down, and surely wouldn’t be the last. 

The funniest thing was watching Hunter try and keep track of all the skaters, since they were falling left and right, fighting over the pucks and who knows what else. It was a free for all, pucks dumped onto ice and Hunter having them attempt to shoot around, although few pucks actually made it into the goals. Hunter was never good with kids, but he was doing his best to stay sane and keep the practice in order. The parents watching from the sidelines proved to be no help in controlling their children.

Tristan skated past Miles, heading towards the little boy who had fallen to help him up and make sure he was okay. Miles turned his attention to a couple players, fixing their grips on the sticks and making sure they were holding the blade the right way before sending them back into the game.

Hunter skated to his side, stopping with a huff of breath and claiming, “I’m never signing up for this again.”

Miles smiled and only shook his head. “Told you not to.” After a pause, he added, “But, hey, it’s not so bad. We get to teach them a thing or two about hockey, while seeing a bunch of five year olds fall all over the ice. At least they’re having fun while doing it. That’s what’s important.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Hunter nodded in the direction of Tristan across the rink, who was now kneeling down to the same height of the little boy and talking to him with a big smile across his face. “Tristan seems to be enjoying it.”

Miles hummed, eyes on his boyfriend, watching Tristan pat the little boy’s shoulder and shake the ice off his back. His mouth curved into a small smile.

“Bet you’re hoping he doesn’t get any ideas,” Hunter commented, glancing to his brother.

Miles wasn’t really paying attention to Hunter anymore, focused on Tristan interacting with the kid, but he asked, “What idea would that be?”

Hunter looked back and forth from Tristan and the boy to Miles standing next to him. “To have a child of his own.”

That shook Miles out of it and he looked to Hunter, eyes wide.

Hunter laughed. “Oh, man.” Patting his brother on the back and shaking his head, he skated away, over to a crowd of players that were toppling over each other to try and rein them in.

Miles looked back to his boyfriend, forgetting about whatever thought Hunter had put in his head about a child for the time being. He skated over to Tristan, smile returning to his face as he approached and overheard him talking to the little boy.

“You just have to keep your hands on the stick like this and your eye on the puck.” Tristan was arranging the little boys hands on the hockey stick before moving them to scrape the blade along the ice. He glanced up when he registered Miles coming to a stop next to them, and smiled. “Isn’t that right, Miles?”

Miles looked at Tristan for a moment before turning towards the little boy. “Yep, that’s right. You keep your eye on the puck and don’t worry so much about your skates on the ice. You bring your hands towards the puck and the stick will do the work.”

The little boy looked up at him, mouth dropped open in wonder, teeth missing. He was smaller than most of the other players and Miles wasn’t even sure if he understood anything that he was saying. He was a cute kid, needless to say, but probably wouldn’t grow to play in the NHL. “You got it, buddy,” Miles reassured, steering the boy with a hand on the back of his oversized jersey towards the closest puck. 

Miles and Tristan both watched the little boy skate towards the other players and re-join the practice, both of them smiling to themselves as he wobbled on his skates and scraped his stick across the ice.

“I give the poor boy five minutes before he hits the ice again,” Tristan said as he observed him start chasing after a puck.

Miles chuckled, eyes on the boy. “I say less than that.”

They stood in silence, stealing glances now and then as they stared out at the rink jumbled with children. After awhile, Miles silently raised his arm, putting a warm hand on Tristan’s back and running it up to the nape of his neck. Eyes meeting, they didn’t have to say anything. Their smiles told them everything they needed to know before they returned their gazes back to the youngsters just learning to play hockey.


	23. Forever

_6 months later… ___

____

____

 

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Miles panted, his legs feeling like spaghetti as he begged them to keep up the jog.

Tristan laughed from in front of him, slowing up to fall into run beside Miles. “Come on, we’re almost home.”

Miles looked up from his sneakers hitting the sidewalk pavement, meeting Tristan’s grinning face, beads of sweat gathering amongst his forehead. He squinted into the morning sun, face beat red and feeling as if he’d sweated off ten pounds since they’d began their run.

“Isn’t this fun?” Tristan asked, throwing out his arms and taking a deep breath in through his nose, enjoying the cool morning air. “You and I running together?”

Miles raised his eyebrows, amused, trying to catch his breath as he kept up the pace with Tristan. “It’d be more fun if it wasn’t seven am.”

Tristan smiled before shoving him playfully and taking off down the sidewalk. “Race you home!” he called over his shoulder.

Miles huffed a laugh and picked up the speed to chase after Tristan. Sprinting the rest of the way to their apartment building, which was only another block away thankfully, Miles arrived to the front door shortly after Tristan, gasping for air as he came to a stop.

“I won,” Tristan gloated, laughing at Miles’ exhausted state.

Miles had bent over dramatically, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He looked up, raising his eyes at Tristan and smiling. “You cheated.”

Tristan gasped, feigning innocence as he said, “Cheated? No, it’s not my fault I’m faster than you.”

Tristan had opened the door for Miles, and Miles straightened to head inside, while continuing to tease his boyfriend. “You got a head start,” he accused.

They were laughing with each other as they headed into the lobby of the apartment building, greeting Frank, the security guard that was in his usual spot behind the front desk.

“Morning, Mr. Hollingsworth, Mr. Milligan,” he nodded to them. “How was your run this morning?”

“Terrible,” Miles joked as he walked past to click the button on the elevator.

Tristan rolled his eyes behind him and corrected him. “It was great. Miles just isn’t much of a morning person.”

Frank chuckled. “Well, you two have a good day.”

Approaching Miles from behind where he was standing in front of the elevators, Tristan hung his arms loosely around his neck and leaned around to spread light kisses down the side of his head.

Miles relaxed under his arms and turned his head, looking at Tristan softly before leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

Taking the elevator up to the 43rd floor and entering their apartment, Miles wasted no time kicking off his sneakers and heading into the kitchen to grab a cold bottle of Gatorade from the fridge. Twisting off the cap, he chugged it as he leaned against the counter.

After locking the door and taking off his own shoes, Tristan followed Miles into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out his own bottle to quench his thirst. The two drank in silence for a moment before Tristan asked over the rim mid-drink, “You nervous for today?”

Miles tilted his head at his boyfriend, scrunching his eyes slightly over a smile. “Me? Nervous?” he scoffed.

Tristan chuckled. “Okay, tough guy. I just thought since this is a _huge _accomplishment, you might be a little jittery.”__

____

____

Miles pulled out the garbage can and chucked his empty plastic bottle into it. “Nope. The hard parts over. Now, I just have to stand in front of a bunch of people, smile and look pretty.” Miles flashed a toothy grin at Tristan as he closed the garbage.

Tristan smiled, stepping forward and turning his body to face Miles. “I think you got that covered.” He threw his arms around Miles’ neck and pushed forward to kiss him, Miles meeting him halfway eagerly.

Breaking away from the kiss too soon for Miles’ liking, Tristan eyed the clock on the stove pointedly before looking back at his boyfriend. “You need to get ready. I promised Hunter I would have you out the door by eight.”

Miles groaned, rolling his eyes and dropping another kiss to Tristan’s lips, before he headed to the bathroom to shower.

After washing himself and toweling dry, Miles began getting ready for his big day while Tristan jumped in the shower, both of them knowing better than to shower together today when they didn’t have any time for funny business. 

Brushing his teeth, applying deodorant and cologne, Miles ran a towel through his hair before styling it. He pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and black socks and went into his closet to search through the dry cleaned hangers for the perfect button down dress shirt. Once he’d found the solid blue one he’d been looking for, Miles put it on, buttoning it up when Tristan emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist and damp curls clinging to his forehead.

“I love that color on you,” Tristan commented as he passed by the open closet before going about his morning routine, fishing around through the dresser for underwear.

Miles smiled and pulled on his dress pants, buckling his belt and grabbing a matching tie that he hung around his neck. He bent down to pick up his shiny black dress shoes and headed out of the closet to sit on the edge of the bed. While lacing up his shoes, Tristan approached him in clean boxers and an undershirt, bending down to grab each side of the tie around Miles’ neck and gave it a light tug.

Miles looked up at him with a quick raise of his eyebrows before standing up to allow his boyfriend to knot his tie for him.

“You look so cute,” Tristan said offhandedly as he played with the tie around Miles’ neck, making sure it was straight and even.

“Handsome,” Miles corrected him.

The corner of Tristan’s mouth turned up in a smile, as he yanked Miles’ tie once more to pull the other boy closer to kiss him. “Right,” he mumbled the second before his lips met Miles’.

Miles kissed him like his life started and ended with the man standing in front of him, like his every day of existence was dependent on Tristan’s soft lips and wet tongue. He felt that familiar heat in his stomach, his intestines turning into knots in that warm fuzzy way that left him craving more of Tristan, more of the love of his life. 

Tristan stopped him before things got too far; always having the slightest bit more self-control than Miles ever seemed to. “Get ready,” he said as he pushed Miles firmly away, lips kiss swollen turning into that same sweet smile. “I’ll go make coffee.”

Dazed and lovesick, Miles watched his boyfriend leave the room before he inevitably had to get his shit together, because today might as well be the biggest day of his company’s life and he couldn’t be distracted. 

Miles slipped on his black suit jacket, straightening it and buttoning it in front of the mirror as he stared at his reflection. He looked sharp and professional, which if you asked Hunter he’d probably say Miles was neither of those things. But, he was the businessman that started what became to be a multi-million dollar company; that was now headed to the ribbon cutting of CSIS’ new office building, which HCC had constructed. He felt accomplished, successful, something he was never able to feel before because of the way he was raised, but luckily Tristan had changed that and honestly it felt great.

With a content sigh, Miles turned away from the mirror and walked to the kitchen, Tristan already waiting with a steaming cup of coffee for him in his hand, black just how he liked it. Miles mumbled a ‘thanks’ as he took the mug from Tristan and brought it to his lips, his body immediately feeling a little more conscious with the first gulp of the warm liquid.

“You better get going,” Tristan said once Miles had finished his cup of coffee and the time was nearing closer and closer to eight.

He nodded, slowly sliding out of the chair he sat in at the breakfast bar next to Tristan, walking to the sink to rinse his empty mug under the faucet. He was suddenly stalling, letting the water run longer than he needed to, because maybe he was nervous to go stand in front of a bunch of people. Maybe he was scared he’d somehow still manage to fuck up.

Tristan sensed that and hopped off his chair, coming to stand behind Miles and reaching around him to shut off the running water. “Hey,” Tristan said, hands on Miles’ shoulders to turn him around to face him. Tristan met Miles gaze, eyes soft and searching, trying to find the reason for his sudden hesitation. “You’re going to do great,” he promised. “I’ve never met anyone that presents themselves as well as you do.”

Miles huffed a laugh and dropped his gaze, feeling stupid for being nervous in the first place. Like he’d said before, this was the easy part. Looking back at Tristan with a small smile, he asked, “Is that why you fell in love with me?”

Tristan grinned at the light-hearted question, not needing to think twice about his answer. “That’s one reason among many.”

Miles pushed back from the counter with a laugh, Tristan stepping aside so Miles could grab his keys and wallet off the breakfast bar and shove them into his pocket. He stepped down from the kitchen, walking towards the door with Tristan following behind him.

“I’ll see you there,” Miles said, turning back around as he reached the door.

Tristan nodded, reaching forward once more to straighten Miles’ collar and tie. “I’ll be there. You got this, babe,” he reminded him.

Miles leaned in to kiss Tristan. “Okay, I love you,” Miles said as he pulled away and turned to open the door.

“I love you, too.” Tristan held the door open as Miles left, smiling as he leaned against the threshold and Miles looked over his shoulder to wink at him before heading down the hall.

 

Miles went to the office first, to meet Hunter as well as the project manager and architect. This was his team, the people that made the construction for CSIS’s new office building happen and who would be representing HCC at the ribbon cutting.

“Good morning boys,” he said as he approached them standing by the front desk with Amanda distributing their ID badges for the ceremony, interrupting some chatter about the new drone the company had purchased to fly across the construction sites.

“Morning,” Hunter greeted him, checking his watch before commenting, “Wow, right on time.”

Miles rolled his eyes before accepting his tag from Amanda with a smile and clipping it to his suit jacket. “Ready to head out?”

They took one car to the CSIS building, pulling into the parking garage next door with special clearance to park there. The event was extremely exclusive, every person attending having to pass a background check, since the CSIS offices are highly confidential. Miles had somehow managed to get Tristan, Grace and Frankie on the list, claiming they were in charge of the HCC PR. 

Walking up to the entrance of the building, Miles was hit with that reoccurring wave of astonishment at the finished project. It hadn’t been an easy hall, yet the building had turned out better than he’d expected and they’d made their deadline in record time. Staring up at the high structure, over the clear glass windows, Miles was amazed at what it had become. With hard work, anything was possible. Miles and his company had literally turned a dirt lot into a ten story light bricked mass that would house the Canadian Security Intelligence Service’s offices in Toronto. He had earned his right to be proud of himself.

Miles hadn’t realized he’d paused in front of the building to relish it, turning his head to Hunter beside him before seeing his brother doing the exact same thing. The smile grew wider across Miles’ face and he reached over to clap a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. Hunter broke his gaze from the structure to look towards Miles and smile right back at him. No words needed to be said because they both knew they’d done a great job, that they’d come a long way and made something of themselves that no one expected them to be able to do. They were fucking proud of each other and Miles knew there was no one else he’d rather have accomplished this with, no one he’d rather have by his side as a business partner besides his brother.

With a silent notion of agreement, the two Hollingsworth brothers, followed by their team, headed into the large entrance of the building, through security and into the extravagant tall ceilinged lobby. The room was crowded with people talking amongst each other and Miles could see from around them that the space had been set up with rows of chairs. Through the crowd Miles caught sight of the short temporary stage and across it, the bright red ribbon.

They were immediately approached by the president of the Toronto department of CSIS who directed them to their seats in the very first row in front of the stage. From there, Miles and Hunter were constantly surrounded by important people in CSIS, given a continuous string of compliments about their work that had Miles smiling so wide that it hurt. 

It wasn’t until the president had made his way onto the stage in front of the podium that everyone took their seats and Miles no longer had to converse. He looked over his shoulder, hoping to catch of glimpse of his boyfriend somewhere in the back of the crowd, but Miles couldn’t see beyond the couple rows of seats behind him.

Returning his attention back to the stage, Miles listened to several people give speeches about the Toronto department of CSIS, the building, and of course Hollingsworth Construction. It was rather boring to listen to despite the topic including mostly praises about his company’s work, but Miles was never one to enjoy sitting still and quiet for a speech.

Eventually the actual part of the ceremony that included the ribbon cutting began and Miles and Hunter were called to the stage along with the key CSIS administration members and the president. They took stance in a line behind the ribbon and were all handed a pair of golden scissors secured in a zipper pouch and engraved with the CSIS brand. The scissors were a mere souvenir from the event as it was only the president that would do the actual cutting of the ribbon. But, these scissors would hold the utmost trophy among his collection back at the office displayed in the conference room, as it was by far the company’s largest project.

Miles finally had a chance to look out at the audience and it only took a moment to scan through the back row before he spotted Frankie, who looked like she was about to burst with excitement, Grace, who stuck her tongue out once she realized she’d caught his gaze, and lastly Tristan sitting side by side.

Tristan wore a grin that had Miles smiling back at him, making him feel warm and something else that he couldn’t quite name. _Special. _Just one look at Tristan and Miles was flooded with so much love, a feeling of importance and Miles couldn’t remember a time before Tristan that he had ever felt that way. He couldn’t look away, mesmerized in the way Tristan’s grin grew impossibly wider and Miles wanted nothing more than to jump off the stage and run to him, to hug him and share this happiness with him for the rest of his life. He could do exactly that last part.__

____

____

The slice of scissors and the brilliant ribbon falling to his feet broke Miles out of it and the crowd erupted into applause as he saw the president hand off the scissors he’d used to cut the ribbon and turn to shake hands with the closest person. Miles looked back to Tristan once more to see his boyfriend standing up and clapping, however his attention was quickly torn away again as he needed to shake countless hands with everyone on stage.

Miles wasn’t given the opportunity to go see Tristan at all even after the ceremony wrapped up, as Hunter’s side required his presence. They thanked the president of CSIS, were congratulated by practically everyone, and posed for pictures for the press. It was a long hour of his attention being pulled back and forth between different people, but finally it began to wrap up and Miles and Hunter said their goodbyes, only after being promised to be contacted if CSIS ever needed any other construction in the Toronto area. 

Piling back into the car, they drove back to HCC headquarters where the company’s celebration was partaking and where Miles would meet Tristan for the party. 

Heading into their building, it was in no way a normal day at the office. Hollingsworth Construction had been transformed into a social gathering, tables set up with food and a full bar, although it was barely noon, to celebrate. It was Miles’ way of thanking his employees after finishing a project to throw a small party. However, being that this was their biggest project yet, Miles had made sure they went overboard with the festivities, having the place catered and spending extra on the alcoholic beverages. No one would be doing any work today.

They were immediately bombarded and offered drinks, Hunter gladly accepting and turning to talk with their friends. Miles however excused himself before zigzagging through the crowd of workers, intent on finding that one person, being patted on the back and congratulated by people along the way. 

In the back corner of the room, he finally spotted Tristan standing with Grace and Amanda, eyes brilliant when they turned and met Miles’. Miles closed the distance between them, ignoring Graces’ and Amanda’s congratulatory remarks and teases.

“You never fail to impress me,” Tristan said softly before he leaned in to kiss him in greeting.

Pulling back quickly, Miles grabbed Tristan’s hand, towing him off down the hall towards his office and chuckling at Grace’s unsurprised comment about him ditching his own party behind him.

Miles threw open his office door, not even bothering to close it as he pulled Tristan in and turned him, pushing him up against the adjacent wall so they were out of immediate view of his celebratory employees. 

He crushed their mouths together, fitting their lips together in that familiar lock, his bottom lip slipping between Tristan’s, kissing him hard until their mouths opened up and their breaths collided. Tristan’s hands were buried deep in the back of Miles’ suit jacket, Miles’ pressed flat to the wall on either side of Tristan’s head. His body kept Tristan pinned against the wall, hips pressed together, Tristan’s leg wedged between Miles’.

Their breaths came in gasps as they kissed each other needy and entirely, noses mashed together as Miles tilted his head, tongue moving deep in Tristan’s mouth, hips moving back and forth absentmindedly against Tristan’s leg.

Tristan pulled back, head hitting the wall with a dull thud, gasping for air. “Close the door,” he said hazily.

Miles stepped back, pulling off his suit jacket and tossing it on the nearest chair, then, turning to kick the door shut with a light bang. Tristan must have gotten his control back, because he followed Miles, hand on his shoulder and turning him back around, pushing him against the other wall next to the closed door.

Miles grinned at Tristan’s light roughness, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth. “God, I fucking love you,” he said, each word holding it’s own intensity. 

Tristan laughed, surging forward to kiss him again, Miles interrupting their lips with his own pit of chuckles. 

“I love you so much,” Tristan said as his lips broke away and he quickly dropped to his knees, hands reaching for Miles’ belt. “And I’m so fucking lucky I get to call you mine.” He swiftly unbuckled Miles’ belt and yanked his pants and boxers down, releasing his hard on. Tristan looked up at him with a small smirk, his voice husky as he said, “You looked so hot up there.”

Without warning, Tristan took ahold of him, one hand on the base of his cock, the other sliding around to grip the curve of his ass. He gave him two slow tugs before Tristan moved his head in, taking the tip into his warm mouth and swallowing him down.

“Ah, fuck,” Miles moaned, legs wavering as Tristan bobbed his head, wet tongue firm against the underside and hand following his mouth up and down his shaft. Miles’ head tipped back against the wall and his breathing grew slightly erratic with the pleasure resulting from Tristan’s perfect mouth around him. His hands fell into fists against his sides, knowing better than to knot them through Tristan’s hair despite how much he needed to.

Tristan’s eyes were glued to Miles’ face; glowing with bliss as if there was nothing he’d rather do than suck his boyfriend’s dick. He hummed around Miles, picking up the pace slightly and squeezing the curve of his ass every now and then until Miles was spilling into his mouth, whining out Tristan’s name with a roll of pleasure.

Tristan licked him dry, coming off with a satisfied grin and grabbing onto Miles’ hands to pull himself off the ground. He bent down to pull Miles’ boxers back up, letting the elastic snap around his hips before yanking his pants up, as his boyfriend was still recovering.

Miles’ legs felt almost as weak as they did on their morning run, but he reached out for Tristan, arm sliding around his waist to steady the both of them. Miles kissed him softly, lips brushing over and over again in familiar patterns across Tristan’s mouth. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, mouth still tipped against Tristan’s.

“Me?” Tristan mumbled incoherently, eyes flickering open to look at Miles, tilting his head to brush their noses together. Miles hummed and Tristan shook his head slowly, smiling. “Not as amazing as you.”

Miles would argue with him, but instead he leaned in to kiss him again, chasing his kiss-swollen lips.

When Tristan pulled back, he bumped foreheads lightly with Miles, placing another quick kiss on his top lip before stepping back. “Get yourself together, then come join the party,” Tristan told him, wiping at his mouth and quirking his eyebrows at his boyfriend.

Miles straightened his body with a smug smile, already stuffing his shirt back into his pants and re-buckling his belt as he watched Tristan slip out of his office and close the door softly behind him. It was remarkable how Tristan was able to leave Miles so unkempt from only a quick blowjob, and now expect him to return to his employees and act like nothing happened. He was glowing, and it wasn’t from the ribbon-cutting ceremony.

After taking a few deep breaths and making sure he looked presentable, Miles opened his office door and snuck back out to the party, immediately spotting Tristan standing back beside Grace, who sent him a shit-eating grin.

Miles chose to avoid that conversation, gesturing with a tilt of his head in the direction he was headed to Tristan. He walked towards the make shift bar table where the guys from exec, some other employees and his brother were milling all with drinks in their hands, immediately calling out to him when they saw him heading their way.

He was clapped on the back, bumped on the shoulder as the guys complimented him on the project, before inquiring where he’d been. Miles shrugged them off, claiming he’d had a little work he’d needed to get done and sure none of them bought it. “What’s everyone drinking?” he asked, changing the subject as he turned towards the bar, looking at the selection of drinks and picking up a bottle of champagne. 

Turning back towards them, Miles proposed an impromptu toast to his employees. “It’s been a hell of a year, boys. And we couldn’t have done it without everyone in HCC. So, thank you all for your hard work and dedication to Hunter and I,” Miles said, swinging his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Now, let’s get this party started!” he decided, the guys joking and laughing with him as he popped the bottle of champagne, spilling foam onto the hardwood floor of the office. 

“Tristan!” he heard one of the boys yell, interrupting Miles’ laughter as he turned to find his boyfriend appearing amongst the group of them. Miles smiled at him, watching as Tristan joined right in with one of the conversations between some of the exec guys. He was practically a part of the company.

“You sly dog.”

Miles started, not having seen Grace draw near even though the teasing voice was familiar. He narrowed his eyes at his best friend, however his mouth was turned into a smile. “What?” he asked innocently.

Grace nudged his arm, giving him that knowing look and Miles rolled his eyes. “I’m happy for you,” she said, brushing her dark strands of hair behind her ears. “For the company, for you and Tristan. See, everything worked out, just like I said it would.”

Miles chuckled, reaching to pull her into a hug and laughing more as she pushed him away. He wasn’t surprised. Grace had never been a hugger. “Aren’t you always right, Grace?”

“Not always. But, with you, I usually am.”

“So, tell me then. Are Tristan and I going to live happily ever after?” He was teasing, well mostly.

Grace snorted, glancing at Tristan who was laughing just a few feet away, deep in a conversation with the guys. “I never doubted the two of you.” She looked back to Miles, a smile playing on her lips. “And you shouldn’t either.”

“Never,” Miles promised simply, looking at the love of his life and knowing with all his heart they were made for each other. 

Tristan’s gaze flickered to his, like magnets, a sparkle in his eyes, like they could read all the unfathomable love they had for each other through a glance. They were _that _gone.__

____

____

“There he is!” A loose arm swung around Miles’ shoulder, causing him to jump a little before peeling his eyes away from Tristan to turn to his bright-eyed sister, wavering at his side. “Now where’s Hunter?” she asked, peering around for her twin, glass of champagne swaying in her hand and Miles removed it, setting it down on the nearest table before it spilled.

“He’s around here somewhere,” Miles said, hand sliding around her back to support his slightly intoxicated sister among a huff of amusement.

“Hunter!” Frankie waved him over exaggeratedly, Hunter looking thoroughly unimpressed at being torn away from his friends as he approached his siblings.

“Seriously, Frankie? The party’s just started and you’re already half in the bag,” he said, a hint of a tease in his voice as he shook his head at his twin.

“Hey, she’s having fun,” Miles justified, nudging his brother who took a sip from his drink. “We all deserve to have some fun.”

“Thank you.” Frankie slid out from under his arm, eyes crinkling up as she leaned around a couple employees to snag a bottle of Grey Goose off the bar table. “The three of us are taking shots,” she declared, holding out the bottle between them. 

“Alright, alright.”

“Ladies first.”

They all threw on those matching Hollingsworth smiles as Frankie raised the bottle. “Here’s for your hard-working asses, that support me even though I’m not as successful as the two of you. I have the best brothers a girl could ask for and even though you’re both a pain in my ass, I love you anyways.” Miles and Hunter both laughed as Frankie tipped the bottle to her lips, taking a shot, face grimacing as she swallowed and handed the vodka off to Hunter.

Miles put a hand on his sister’s arm to steady her as she rocked on the balls of her feet with a cough, looking to Hunter who raised the bottle between them.

“This is for Frankenstein, who despite having Miles as a brother still can’t take a shot properly.”

Miles snickered as Frankie whacked her twin’s arm in mock offense.

“Okay,” Hunter surrendered as he recovered from laughing. “Franks, I love you even though you’re my annoying twin sister.” Frankie hit him again lightly and Miles put up his hand to stop the two of them as they all giggled like the children they once were.

Hunter turned to his older brother as the laughter subsided. “Miles, I can’t thank you enough for following my dream with me and making all of this possible. We’re one hell of a team together and there’s no one else I’d rather have as my business partner.” Hunter paused with the bottle at his lips and tacked on, “Except maybe Grace.”

Miles punched his brother’s arm as Hunter wiggled his eyebrows and took a gulp from the bottle before passing it off to Miles.

“Last, but not least.”

“Ah, where do I even start with the two of you,” Miles joked. “We haven’t had it easy, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t get sappy on us now, Miles,” Frankie teased.

Miles rolled his eyes. Sappy? Not likely. “I wouldn’t be who I am today without the two of you. Frankie, if it wasn’t for your constant life advice—”

“You mean Tristan advice?” she interjected and Miles huffed a laugh.

“Sure, whatever. And Hunter, or should I say _Boss _—”__

____

____

“We’re a team,” Hunter stressed.

“Relax, I’m just kidding,” Miles said, nudging his brother. “Hunter, I will never regret the crazy decision to drop everything and start a company with you. It’s been an honor watching you and this company grow— take notes because I won’t repeat this again— I’ve learned so much from you and I’m glad to call you not just my brother, but my best friend.” 

Hunter had a hand on his heart, mocking him of course, and Miles rolled his eyes again, holding out a hand to bump fists with his brother. 

“I love you, guys.” Miles lifted the bottle to his lips, taking an even pull of liquor, before setting it off to the side and Frankie was pulling them both into a hug. It was heart-warming, knowing he had a close bond with his brother and sister, and that they’d always have each other’s backs no matter what. _Family. ___

____

____

“Okay, enough,” Hunter pushed away from them, not before clapping Miles on the shoulder and dropping a kiss to Frankie’s cheek.

Miles ruffled his sister’s hair as he stepped around her, Frankie swatting his hand away, and landed his eyes on his boyfriend leaning against a cubicle across the room. He was still chatting with a couple employees, but his eyes were already on Miles as the other boy looked over, like he’d been watching him, and Miles smiled. 

His mind flashed to earlier when Tristan’s mouth had been around him and Miles kicked himself at the heat in his gaze, because now was hardly the time to be thinking about things that would get him worked up again. Hell, Tristan was the one to blame as it was his fault for looking so damn sexy in his light gray button-down that emphasized his scorching blue eyes. 

Miles sighed, shaking his head at the other boy with a grin as he started towards him. He grabbed a beer from the bar on the way, Tristan stepping aside from the conversation when he saw him approaching.

“What?” Tristan asked at Miles’ expression as he wrapped an arm around his waiting boyfriend and took a sip of his beer.

“You’re going to be the death of me one of these days,” Miles said softly, turning his head to press two quick kisses to Tristan’s temple before offering him his beer bottle.

“Hm, why’s that?” Tristan nuzzled momentarily against him, then took the beer from his hand and leaned back as he took a drink, free hand resting in between Miles’ shoulder blades.

“You’re just so fucking irresistible.”

Tristan nearly choked on the beer at Miles’ direct reply, hand curling into the back of his shirt as he gave Miles a look. “Do you have to say stuff like that right now?”

Miles laughed. “Well, it’s true. Maybe you shouldn’t eye-fuck me from across the room,” he teased.

Tristan opened his mouth in shock, raised eyebrows and smiling so wide. “You’re one to talk.”

Miles mirrored his smile, wetting his lips before leaning in to kiss that pretty open mouth, soft and sweet. When they broke apart, Miles ran his thumb over Tristan’s bottom lip, smiling at each other as Tristan took his hand and led him to socialize with their friends and his employees. They had all the time in the world to be alone together, but now it was time to be spent celebrating with the company.

 

It was after five when the party finally wrapped up, Miles, Tristan, Hunter, and Amanda the last to go, starting to clean up the leftover food, drinks and decorations, before deciding to call the cleaning service for tomorrow morning to get the bulk of the mess. Grace had driven a very wasted Frankie home an hour ago, Miles hugging them, telling them to get home safe and promising to call them both tomorrow.

It had been an exciting day of festivities, but honestly Miles was exhausted and ready to get home with Tristan. Well, not _too _exhausted.__

____

____

After locking up the office, the four of them walked together to where they were parked, pausing by Hunter’s Audi before going separate ways.

“Thank you so much for your help, Amanda,” Miles said as she pulled him into a hug. It had been her after all who’d planned the great party and the company was lucky to have such a passionate woman as their receptionist.

“Of course. Congratulations,” she said, rubbing his back before turning to hug Tristan.

Miles held out his hand to his brother and Hunter clapped hands, going through the motion of a handshake before pulling him into a quick one-armed hug. 

“I think we did alright for two Hollingsworths,” Miles mused, patting his brother’s back before they both stepped away.

“Not too bad,” Hunter agreed with an earnest smile, lifting his hand in a two-finger salute to Miles. “Love you, bro.”

“You too, man,” Miles nodded as Tristan’s hand found it’s way into his and he interwove their fingers tightly together. 

They took a couple steps in the direction of Miles’ car before Miles took notice to the way Amanda hung by Hunter’s side, waiting. Miles furrowed his eyebrows together, skeptical and surprised. Were they going home together? He stifled a laugh, face turning into a shit-eating grin. When the hell did that happen? It looked like Hunter was the one breaking the rules now.

“I’ll see you both at work tomorrow,” Miles called over his shoulder, letting a small chuckle escape his lips as Tristan and him headed towards their car.

Climbing into the BMW and starting the engine, Miles looked over at Tristan in the passenger seat, who was looking back at him just as amused. “They’re hooking up, aren’t they?”

Tristan shrugged, lifting his eyebrows up down with a laugh before he was turning to reach for his seatbelt. “Good for Hunter. It’s about damn time.”

“Hunter, Hunter, Hunter.” Miles cooed, shaking his head as he backed out of the parking spot and began the short drive towards their apartment. What was the rule again? _No hooking up with employees. ___

____

____

“You’re going to give him shit for it, aren’t you?”

Miles laughed, the reality of the situation being he would never waste a chance to nag his little brother for getting with their receptionist, breaking the one rule Hunter had created himself starting the business. But, at the end of the day, Miles was happy for the two of them. 

If there was one thing he’d learned, it was that you couldn’t help who you fell in love with.

Miles glanced over at Tristan with a cheeky smile, reaching over to run a hand through his dark beautiful curls. “Of course I am.”

 

Miles would be lying if he said they made it into their apartment before they started making out. Because of course they didn’t. When it came to physical attraction, these two pretty much had no self-control. And that’s why Miles had Tristan pinned against the railing of the elevator with his tongue in his mouth as they rode it up to the 43rd floor. At least they were the only two in the elevator and there wasn’t some poor tenant witnessing the heated lip lock.

When the elevator doors opened, Miles didn’t let up and Tristan laughed as he pushed him away. “Come on,” he said through pits of laughter, keeping his gaze on Miles as the other boy walked backwards through the doors, grinning.

Tristan nudged Miles down the hall, steering him so he didn’t bang into the wall, not letting him have any more kisses until they were standing in front of the door to their apartment. That’s when Miles had his chance to swoop back in and thread his fingers through Tristan’s hair, pulling his head forward to kiss him again, open-mouthed and needy.

Commotion down the hall, a door opening and their neighbor leaving, caused the boys to pull apart, disheveled and gasping for breath. Tristan pulled his key out and unlocked the door.

Kicking their shoes off and tearing off their jackets, Tristan went ahead to the bedroom, leaving Miles to close and lock the door before following right behind him. They weren’t wasting time.

“Have fun today?” Tristan asked, hovering by the dresser and placing the contents of his pockets, cellphone and wallet, on the top before turning around to look at Miles as he entered the room.

Miles chuckled as he loosened his tie around his neck, eye glued to Tristan as he pulled it undone and tossed it to the ground. “I think I’m going to have more fun now.”

“Really?” He stretched out the word teasingly through a smile, watching the way Miles’ gaze raked down his body, pupils blown.

Miles swallowed, before deciding under his breath, “Yeah, definitely more fun now.” He stepped forward and reached out to grab Tristan, shoving their mouths back together, sucking and nipping his bottom lip before delving his tongue inside, tasting what was his. Miles’ hands slid from a bruising grip on his hips, to hold Tristan’s upper thighs, hands squeezing, pulling their bodies closer together.

He pushed Tristan back against the closest wall, Tristan’s spine hitting the wall with a dull thud, their lips and tongues still tugging together, Tristan’s hands pressing into the nape of his neck, leg climbing, hitching up around Miles’ waist.

Miles moaned, mouth open and falling to latch onto Tristan’s neck, Tristan’s head tilting to the side with a gasp of breath as Miles sunk in, sucking and teasing his tongue around the tingling skin.

“Fuck,” Tristan breathed, hands sliding up to entangle in Miles’ hair, almost long enough now that it was time for a haircut, but that was how Tristan liked it. “Baby.”

Miles lifted his head to kiss Tristan’s mouth again, mashing their lips together, head twisting as he squeezed Tristan’s ass harder, grinding their hips closer together and swallowing a moan.

“Fuck.” Their lips broke and Miles scooped Tristan’s other leg up, holding him against the wall to kiss him again before swinging around and walking the two steps to drop Tristan onto the bed.

Miles was falling on top of him and connecting their lips as Tristan scrambled up the bed, Miles pushing him deeper into the mattress with his tongue. Tristan was laughing and Miles did his best to kiss him quiet, licking his bottom lip before sucking it hard with a hum.

Tristan’s hands were sliding up his ribs like fire, taking his shirt with his fingers and exposing bare skin. Miles pulled back enough to start undoing buttons at the top, enough that he could pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside, leaning back in to kiss Tristan.

Tristan pushed him away, shifting up on his elbows to start unbuttoning his own shirt and Miles took to his pants, unbuckling his belt and yanking the clothes down Tristan’s limbs, boxers included, until they were caught around his ankles and Tristan was kicking them off his feet.

“That shirt better be off,” Miles said, placing teasing wet kisses up and down the inside of Tristan’s thighs that had the other boy shivering. When Miles looked up, the gray dress shirt was tossed at his face and Miles laughed, batting it away. 

Tristan smirked at him, eyebrows lifted in challenge, and Miles scrunched his face up at the cheeky fucker before dropping his jaw and taking Tristan into his mouth without warning.

“Ah—Fuck—Miles!” Tristan keened, back arching against the mattress, hands curling in sheets, and Miles sucked down and up twice before popping off with a low chuckle, lips shiny.

“Everything okay?” Miles arched an eyebrow, hands sliding around Tristan’s thighs, up to his hipbones as he crawled up the bed to hover properly over him, looking into those wide blazing eyes.

Tristan pushed up to kiss him, dragging Miles down by the neck to meet his lips, kissing away his sarcasm with flicks of his tongue that had Miles nearly whimpering. Miles rolled his hips down against Tristan, whose legs were slipping open, knees bending, Tristan’s nails scraping lightly down his back, slipping under the waistband of his pants.

Miles pulled off abruptly, rolling off Tristan and to his feet at the side of the bed, undoing his belt and kicking his pants off in a rush. He snickered at the impatient groan Tristan let out, hearing his arms and legs collapse back to the bed with a bounce.

“Someone’s eager,” Miles said, voice husky, as he grabbed the lube off the bedside table and hopped back onto the bed, swinging a leg over Tristan to straddle him.

“You try having an insanely hot boyfriend that makes you feel like you’re about to explode in sexual frustration all day just by looking at him.”

Miles laughed, resituating himself between Tristan’s legs, bending and spreading the other boy’s knees. “Trust me, I know the feeling.” He popped the cap of the lube and Tristan tipped up, expectant, and Miles leaned down to kiss those soft lips.

Miles dipped his head up to squirt lube onto his fingers, tossing the bottle away and lowering his hand. He shifted forward to bring his face mere inches from Tristan’s again. “Let me take care of you.”

“Please,” came Tristan’s soft whisper, lips parted as he bent up to kiss him, giving away everything to the boy hovering over him.

Miles spread Tristan’s legs further and teased his hole with his finger, pushing in and feeling the way Tristan’s mouth went lax as he did so. He added a second, rubbing inside, disconnecting the kiss to watch Tristan’s body flush, his mouth dropped open and eyes locked with his. So beautiful.

Supporting his weight on the elbow of his free arm, Miles brought his hand to thumb at the curve of Tristan’s jaw, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of his neck. He added a third finger and Tristan let out a quiet gasp as he moved them inside.

“Miles.”

“Okay, baby.” Miles slipped his fingers out, bringing his hand back up and wiping it against the sheets, still caressing Tristan softly with his other hand. He knew what his boy needed. “I’ve got you.”

Hands dropping to Tristan’s waist, Miles pushed inside him, watching Tristan’s mouth bubble over with a moan before he was pulling back out and slamming back in.

“Ah— GOD— Miles—Ah,” Tristan gasped, overwhelmed in the best way possible, hands tumbling into the sheets as Miles thrusted into him, so deep. 

Miles cut off the sounds, shoving his tongue into Tristan’s mouth and Tristan pushed up, rolling his hips to meet Miles’ halfway, bodies moving, fitting together and Tristan was moaning into Miles’ mouth.

Miles nipped at his lips, Tristan dragging his hands up to tug on Miles’ hair, keep them breathing against each other, lips drawing back together. Push and pull, hips crashing together.

They knew the other’s motions, the other’s body like the back of their hands. They weren’t new to this. Miles knew when he lifted Tristan’s hips off the mattress and pushed into him fast, Tristan moaned so loud, and when Tristan clenched his legs around Miles’ waist, Miles’ breath hitched and pace stuttered. 

They knew how to make love to each other. They knew everything that would set the other off. They knew how to make it so good.

“Fuck, Tris,” Miles dropped his head to Tristan’s collarbone, mouthing at the skin, wet kisses, hands sliding up Tristan’s ribs against ticklish skin as he moved in and out of him and Tristan laughed.

Miles lifted his head up, meeting crinkled blue eyes and he managed to arch an eyebrow at his giggling boyfriend. “Why are you laughing?”

Tristan smiled, biting his lip and eyes fluttering shut before reopening. “I—Fuck—I love you so much.”

Miles huffed, hands moving back down to curve around his hips, fingers pressing into his ass. “And that’s funny?”

Tristan’s breath caught before he could get another laugh out, as Miles pressed deep inside him. But, then he was laughing shakily and replying with a little sarcasm. “Sometimes.”

Miles lifted his hips then, picking up the pace and slamming into him hard. He was the one chuckling now as Tristan shouted in pleasure, eyes rolling back inside his head.

But, the heat quickly engulfed him out of nowhere and Miles quickly slowed the pace, hands falling to the mattress on either side of Tristan’s head to support his body, eyes squinting shut as his laughter trailed off and Tristan dropped back to the mattress. “Fuck.”

Tristan had recovered quickly and was laughing again, head falling to the pillow as he looked at Miles, who was rolling into him much more languidly.

“Stop laughing or I’m going to come,” Miles said behind a smile, biting back his own laughter as he tried to get himself under control. Too soon.

Tristan pressed their lips together, holding Miles’ neck and cupping his jaw, slipping their mouths open to kiss deeply and let their tongues lap together and Miles continued pumping in and out of him slowly, until Tristan broke their lips apart. “Roll over.”

Miles pulled out, flipping onto his back on the mattress next to Tristan, but Tristan tugged him by both his hands, up to sit with his back against the headboard of the bed and then Tristan was in his lap, sinking down on his cock. Tristan’s favorite position.

His eyes were blown, one hand on Miles’ shoulder and the other on the back of his neck, rolling his hips as he pressed their foreheads together and Miles’ hands burned holes where they gripped his waist.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Miles whispered, eyes locked with Tristan, so intimate, as he picked up Tristan’s hips and slid him back down on him.

Tristan’s mouth tipped open, a moan, and Miles took that opportunity to press their lips together, kiss him in time to shifting Tristan’s body up and down on his dick, picking back up the pace.

Tristan felt so amazing on Miles, beyond words and all Miles could do was pant against his boyfriend’s lips and try to hold on a little bit longer. They were so close, so connected, and Miles never wanted to let go of this. Never had to.

It didn’t get any better than this. Any better than Tristan sharing all his love with him, any better than seeing that blissful smile every day for the rest of his life. Miles was fucking lucky.

Miles thrusted up into Tristan, hitting that spot over and over again, and Tristan was losing it, moaning into Miles’ mouth, clinging to his body as he rolled his hips.

“Mm, ‘m so close,” Tristan whimpered, eyes closing, and Miles took a hold of his erection between them, hand moving fast in time to Tristan bouncing in his lap.

“It’s okay. I got you, babe,” Miles panted, so far gone, he felt the heat, his stomach tightening. “Come for me.” He lifted Tristan, rolling them quick until Tristan’s back was hitting the mattress and Tristan was gasping for air as Miles pushed right back inside him, pounding into him, hand squeezing Tristan, their foreheads pressed tight together. 

“Tris, look at me,” Miles managed, voice strangled as his body was on fire and he was letting go, hips stuttering and all rhythm gone at this point, but blue eyes shot open and met his.

Miles’ body jolted and he came inside Tristan, vision going white for a hot second as he buried his head in the crook of Tristan’s neck, mouth and teeth landing on his skin. Tristan was right behind him, coming between them, moaning out Miles’ name through his orgasm as his head collapsed back against the mattress.

They breathed together, panted against each other, heartbeats pounding in unison, their chests pressed sticky together. Then, Miles was lifting a hand and his head, turning Tristan’s face to the side to kiss him, pouring his soul into that mouth with every tug of their lips. 

“I love you, Tris.”

“I love you, too.”

 

Miles was set on spending the rest of the night cuddling with Tristan in bed. After finding the energy to pull out, grab a wet wash cloth from the bathroom and clean the cum off the two of them, Miles had immediately collapsed back into bed, kissing Tristan and pulling the other boy in close, so their arms and legs entangled, soft and warm under the comforter.

So, when an hour later, Tristan was pulling away the comforter, sitting up and nudging him awake from his doze, Miles couldn’t help but grumble in protest.

“Babe, come back,” he mumbled inaudibly into the pillow, arms reaching around to pull his warm boyfriend back beside him.

Tristan chuckled and Miles felt the soft kisses trailing down the back of his neck, along his spine, smiling into his pillow, eyes still closed.

Then, the lips were gone, replaced by hands, shaking him lightly again and Miles grumbled. 

“Come on. We’re going to the roof.”

He heard Tristan climb out of bed, the sound of clothes being shuffled, boxers being pulled on before his pair was tossed on his back. Miles cracked an eye open, turning his head to look at his boyfriend skeptically. “The roof? Now?”

“Yes, come on.” Tristan leaned over him in bed, kissing his lips, then his nose, forehead, down his cheek, and Miles reached out, trying to pull him back into bed, but Tristan dodged out of the way.

“Fine, fine. I’m coming.” Miles groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He grabbed his boxers, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to slip them on and pull them up as he stood. “Are we smoking?”

Tristan yanked the white comforter off the bed, pulling it up to wrap around Miles’ shoulders and Miles grabbed onto Tristan’s waist, turning him and pulling him in front of him around the comforter and dropping kisses to the back of his shoulders.

“No.”

Miles dropped his chin to Tristan’s shoulder with a slightly disappointed hum as they started walking, tipping to the side to kiss his neck. He kept stepping on the back of Tristan’s feet, so Tristan moved to the side of him, snaking an arm around Miles’ waist instead as they headed through the kitchen, down the two stairs and out the door.

It was late, but not late enough for the two to be wandering around the apartment building wearing nothing but boxers, so Tristan quickly pulled them into the back stairwell, jogging up the flights of stairs to the roof, both of them laughing as Miles raced to catch up, tripping on the comforter several times.

They burst through the door to the rooftop, laughing brightly together, door banging shut behind them and luckily no one else was there.

It was probably one of the last warm nights of the year, crystal clear pool still open, furniture cushions still laid out. There was a light autumn breeze, refreshing, that still had Miles tightening the comforter around Tristan’s shoulders, tucking Tristan in against his chest as they headed for their far corner of the roof, that same wicker couch they always laid on with the bright red cushion.

The city was lit up in bright lights, glowing blue and white, not a cloud in the sky so you could see some of the stars. 

They fell onto the cushion together, laughter subsiding from their unplanned journey to the rooftop, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Miles was suddenly glad Tristan had woken him up to come here, because it was a beautiful night and Tristan was a beautiful boy and it wouldn’t be long till it turned into a cold and frigid winter. They had to enjoy their roof while they still could.

They laid quiet, content and peaceful, Miles tracing up and down Tristan’s back under the comforter, Tristan’s eyes finding patterns along Miles’ face. Their gaze didn’t falter from each other’s.

“I love you,” Miles whispered into the space between their lips. He didn’t need to say it, Tristan already knew.

Tristan’s eyes softened, his lips curling up. “I love you, too.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips and his eyes slipped close as he leaned in to kiss Miles, so soft, so tenderly and meaningful. Miles’ heart was fluttering in his chest.

It’s an amazing thing, falling in love with someone he could bury his soul to, who accepts him for who his is. Something Miles thought he’d never be able to find until he collided with Tristan in Starbucks over a year ago. He’d never been one to believe in fate or miracles, or trust that there was a person out there for everyone, a soul mate. But, all that changed when Tristan ricocheted into his life. They belonged together, they were made for each other, and Miles had to believe that the love between them was the strongest out there, something that would last forever. Because a life without Tristan Milligan wasn’t worth living.

Their hands found each other’s between the cushions, intertwining together. Miles squeezed his hand and Tristan squeezed back, noses nuzzling together, brown on blue, soft smiles. And they laid there together, beneath the stars of Toronto.

This was only the beginning of their story, their script. They had their whole lives ahead of them to spend with each other, loving each other, making each other the happiest people in the world.

“Forever?” Miles asked.

“Forever,” Tristan promised.

And they kissed.

All Miles had wanted was a quick cup of coffee, but he got _so much more. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is. The end.
> 
> I love each and every one of you that took the time to read this story, that gave me kudos and left comments and reviews, the positive vibes on Tumblr, and even Instagram. You are all the reason this story became what it is today and I love you endlessly for your support. Especially Preya, for writing paragraphs at a time with positive feedback that has helped shape this story and Ryan for being my editor as well as my inspiration. It's been two long years and I thank you for sticking by me when it frequently took me months to update. I've found people just as passionate about Triles because of this fic and I am so glad I chose to share this story with all of you. Of course, none of this fic would be possible without the Degrassi writers dreaming up two great characters, Miles and Tristan, and the ship of my lifetime, so the credit goes to them. I hope I did Triles justice.
> 
> That being said, this is not the end. I will continue to write new stories about Triles when I find the time, however I am a very busy college student. Potentially a sequel to Revise the Script? 
> 
> I love you all. Don't be strangers. You can find me at startingatthe-end.tumblr.com


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